


Daylight

by GetMeDietCoke



Category: Karlie Kloss (Model), Kaylor - Fandom, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/F, Gaylor, kaylor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-04-11 22:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 57,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetMeDietCoke/pseuds/GetMeDietCoke
Summary: This is a Kaylor story. Based on real-life events that have taken place and then just made up the in-betweens and behind the scenes. Obviously very fictional.When Taylor finds out about Karlie's surprise engagement, it's as if something has shattered. With a new label deal on the horizon, Joe by her side, the media onto her every move and Karlie refusing to stay in her past, she tries to navigate her minefield-resembling life at the end of the Reputation era and beyond.On-going, long-term story. Here for the diet coke, you guys. (40+ chapters planned, future NSFW)
Relationships: Karlie Kloss/Taylor Swift, kaylor
Comments: 133
Kudos: 504





	1. Chapter I - It’s gonna be forever or it’s gonna go down in flames

**Author's Note:**

> Strap yourselves in, this is going to be a long ride.

_August 25, 2018._

She has almost forgotten how hot and humid Nashville could be in summer. _Almost_. She could feel the beads of sweat rolling down her spine as she rushes through the wide hallways of Nissan Stadium, navigating through the frenzy that was her pre-show organisation. There is almost certainly a blister developing on her left heel and she could almost envisage how bad it would get during the next couple of hours. Toshi jumps out of the way when she turns a corner too sharply and she mumbles a quick apology whilst making her way to her dressing room. Finally, some peace and quiet; finally, some calm before the storm. She pushes the door open to be met by a lanky blonde man standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by her tour stuff.

“Hi babe!” He grins, “Got bored at the house, decided to drop by.”

_Of course you did_. With everything that had been going on, she would have almost forgotten about Joe. Joe, who kindly planned his entire career around hers. Joe, who would accompany her to whatever she felt like attending. Joe, who made her nachos at three in the morning and breakfast food in the afternoon. Joe, who cleaned up after Olivia and Meredith when they’d had a swipe at each other or hid hairballs around any of the houses. Joe, who helped her pick outfits if she wasn’t sure. By all means, the actual calm in her storms.

“Well, I’m glad you here.” She sighs, walking over and pecking him on the lips, “Pretty sure I’m about to get a blister.”

“My love for you has limits and popping blisters is where I draw the line, darling.”

“What about in sickness and in health, Joe?”

“We’re not married.” Joe replies factually, “Have you got a paring knife around here?”

_A paring –_ She looks on in awe as he grabs an apple from one of the fruit baskets and spins around, seemingly looking for a knife. With a soft _aha!_ he picks up a small knife that had been left with the napkins and cups on one of the side tables and sits down on the edge of the sofa.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Have you ever seen those videos of those people that can peel an apple in just one go?” He says slowly, “Trying to get the hang of that – oh.”

She’s lucky. Joe is kind and funny and understanding and by all standards, she is _lucky_.

“Karlie’s coming tonight.”

Taylor feels weird saying it. It’s been about a month since she’s brought the model up and even then, it was in passing, almost accidental. She remembers it clear as day. Joe had tried to make fish and chips, which had taken a surprisingly long amount of time to actually get on the table. So long that Taylor had made her way through most of a bottle of Chardonnay, although she suspected it may have had something to do with the fact her former best friend got engaged and then decided to make Taylor part of her –

“The bachelorette party, right?” Joe finishes her thought, slicing a bit of apple off and offering it to her, “You good?”

“Hmmm.” It’s a Granny Smith because it almost tastes as sour as her mood. _Almost_.

“I’m sure you’ll have fun. You’ve not seen her in ages.”

Sometimes she wonders whether Joe is blissfully unaware of it all or whether he just chooses to ignore the Karlie-sized elephant in the room. The apple’s sliced up entirely at this point and Joe sighs, looking around the room.

“What’s with all of those?” He nods in the direction of a second table filled with snacks and drinks, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you have,” He pauses as he walks over and picks one of the packs up, “sweet paprika rice cakes, or” He grabs a bottle, “ginger kale juice?”

“The dancers’ rider is limited,” Taylor shrugs, “so I make sure to add things they like onto mine for afterwards. It’s not like anyone is going to deny me sweet paprika rice cakes.”

“_You_,” Joe grins, “are way too nice.”

“Thank you for saying that?” She frowns in amusement, “Anyway. Bachelorette party after this show, don’t wait up, it might be late.”

“Sure.” Joe grabs another apple, “What?” He smirks at her mock annoyance, “They’re good for you! I’ll see you when you get in, have fun.”

And with that, he’s gone. Taylor can hear the crowd cheering at the support act. _You’re fine. You’re fine. You are fine_. There’s a knock on her door and for a second, she thinks it’s Joe that has forgotten something, a third apple for all she knows. Without waiting for a response, Kamilah comes into the room, Paul and Giuseppe in tow.

“We are all ready if you are. Charlotte just came off stage so we’re right on time. Ten minutes to meet, twenty to get in place, sounds good?”

“Perfect, thanks Kam.” She smiles, “Go on.” She nods at Giuseppe who is eyeing the table with drinks, “Ginger kale is on the side.”

“You are the best.”

She doesn’t manage to get a _thanks for saying that_ out before the trio’s left her dressing room. With a sigh, she kicks off her left boot and looks at the skin of her heel. _Definitely a blister_. Digging through one of the kits on her dresser, she manages to find a plaster and slaps it on unceremoniously. It’s not like it’ll bother her _too_ much. Her phone vibrates loudly on the side and she grabs it, hoping it’s a certain someone with a cancellation.

‘We made it right on time! Missed the support act but totally ready for you! See you after!’

The blister won’t be what hurts the most tonight.

\---

It is the quickest post-gig shower she’s ever taken in her life. The blue acryl paint on one of her nails has chipped but it’s not that noticeable, and the sparkly dress she had washed and dry cleaned especially is waiting for her as soon as she gets out of the shower. One of the stylists preps a seat to give her hair a quick blow-dry and the makeup artist, she’s told, is on her way. _I’m fine._

“Taylor?” Paul peeks into the room, “Sam from Security has got Karlie with him, do you want him to let her through or wait for a bit? He said he tried to reach Tree but she’s not receiving.”

“Give me five?” Taylor asks, looking at her stylist in the mirror as he grimaces, “Ten. Make it ten.”

Eight minutes later, the stylist is gone. The makeup artist is packing her things and almost stumbles over a stray shoe on her way out. Taylor tries to apologise but the girl’s already gone, leaving Taylor to pace in her dressing room. She’s ready. She’d spotted Karlie in the VIP section before, recording Blank Space and singing along to the words. _If the high was worth the pain_. Spotting a 6 ft 2 blonde amongst a crowd of 5 ft somethings wasn’t difficult, the real challenge had been not singing every single song to her exclusively afterwards. There’s another knock on her door and this time, she doesn’t have a single doubt who’s at the other side of the door.

“Come in.” Her voice sounds croaky, so she tries again, “Come in.”

The door swings open and Karlie storms in, all smiles and grace and with her comes a gust of enthusiasm that seems to knock the remaining air out of Taylor’s lungs.

“_Babe_,” Karlie engulfs her in a hug, “that was fantastic. It was _so_ good. You were amazing. And you – let me look at you.”

She doesn’t manage to get a word in before Karlie takes a step back and looks her up and down. It’s one of the things she misses the most, the way Karlie would never just look at her but instead decide to analyse every single aspect of her appearance. It was never judgmental but always a sort of awestruck wonder.

“Who is this by?” Karlie asks, more to herself than Taylor, “I like it, it’s so simple with the LBD but then the sparkly sheen sort of brings out your eyes? Nice coordination with the nails, too – you chipped one. Babe, this is a _look_.”

“Hi Karlie.” Taylor sighs, trying to take it all in, a small smile creeping into the corners of her mouth.

“Hi – sorry, I’m a lot.” The taller girl grins, “I’m just excited, you know. Can’t wait for you to meet my friends? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She pauses, “Too long. I promise I’ll calm down but this look just _had_ to be acknowledged.”

“Speaking of looks…”

Taylor is amazed how Karlie is standing in the middle of her dressing room wearing black jeans she’s sure she’s seen the model wear years ago, paired with a washed out Led Zeppelin tee. She doesn’t look her age of 26 but it suits her, Taylor decides. Karlie snorts and takes out her phone from a studded crossbody bag.

“I need to _move_ when I go to gigs.” She declares, “Come on, get in, I want to take a selfie of the both of us.”

“Life for the gram, how surprising.”

“Look surprised then.” Karlie grins, “Ready?”

It takes Karlie a few tries to get one she’s happy with. Taylor watches her profile as she swipes through the newly made selfies, mumbling to herself as she decides whether they are any good or not.

“Okay, can I Instagram this one?”

“You can do anything you like.” Taylor smiles, reaching for her bag, “Right, let’s go, don’t want to keep your friends waiting, do we.”

\---

Karlie’s friends are nice.

The party is… nice. It’s just five of them, which surprises Taylor a bit. She had half expected Karlie to celebrate her engagement with a couple dozen models but instead, she finds herself sitting in a private area of a local restaurant, talking to Karlie’s curly-haired friend about cake decorations. It’s almost surreal. _Almost_.

Karlie and the two others join them, drinks in hand. Taylor’s not sure how many she’s had at this point. She was sure she mentioned having eight more shows to go and that she had plans the next day and would limit herself to one vodka diet coke, but at this point she’s definitely had white wine, and a shot, and whilst there is a vodka diet coke in her hand, it is most definitely not her first. _Maybe I need it._

“I saw Haim, too.” Karlie brings up, “They’re also _so_ talented. Most of your friends are.”

“They are.” Taylor agrees, sipping her drink through a straw, “I sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“Speaking of picking good ones,” one of the other women pipes up, “Karlie, this is the first time I’m seeing your engagement ring in real life – let me have a better look.”

_Please don’t_. Taylor inwardly groans as Karlie stretches her arm across the table, past Taylor, to have her friend a better look. She can’t help but look down. Credit where credit due, the ring is stunning. It looks sparkly (which Karlie likes) and it looks like a perfect fit (which Karlie likes) and most importantly, it looks expensive (which Karlie really likes). By all standards, Josh picked out a ring perfect for his wife-to-be. Taylor sucks her straw harder.

“Gorgeous.” The woman states, “Did you see the engagement picture, Taylor?”

_Fuck. _She feels the panic bubbling up in her chest. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“She didn’t like the one on Instagram so I reckon she hasn’t seen it.”

Karlie’s voice is loud and clear and suddenly, she’s more than ever interested in the piece of lime at the bottom of her glass, trapped under the ice cubes. Surely something she can remedy by poking it with her straw, multiple times.

“I’ve been very busy with touring.”

It is a shit excuse and she knows it. Karlie knows it. Karlie’s friends know it. Hell, if the waiting staff in this place were within earshot, they’d know it too. She prods the lime slightly more violently. The conversation has gone quiet and the four pairs of eyes on her right now are more nerve-wracking then the tens of thousands earlier that evening. Trying to get rid of the lump in her throat, she finishes the remainder of her vodka diet coke in seconds. It burns, but not nearly as much as Karlie’s stare is burning holes in her head.

“Where are you off to next?”

“Detroit, the 28th. We’re flying out tomorrow.” Taylor responds, relieved.

When she looks up, green eyes are still looking at her. _Let it go. Let it go._ She stares back at Karlie for a couple of seconds, unable to tear her gaze away from the younger girl as her friends are oblivious to what’s happening. In the end, Karlie is the first to look away, first to put her empty glass on the table.

“How about we move to another bar?” Karlie suggests, “There are some great ones a couple of blocks away.”

“I am gonna call it a night,” Taylor sighs, “I’ve got an early start tomorrow and I can’t really afford the hangover. It was _lovely_ meeting you girls though.”

There’s a couple of pleas for her to stay as the group makes its way to the front door of the venue, Karlie hanging back to pay for the tab. Taylor says her goodbyes to the three friends, ensuring them they will hang out again at some point in time, _surely_. (The wedding, suggests one of them. A belated birthday party, another thinks.) When Karlie reappears, her friends are already a few metres ahead, giggling as they walk toward the new bar.

“You didn’t have to pay the tab, you know.” Karlie puts her purse away, “When did you even do that?”

_When you were talking about Josh and I went to the bathroom._

“It’s Nashville. I could hardly let you pay for your own bachelorette drinks.”

“You are very kind, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It’s still seventy degrees at this time of night but Taylor suddenly feels cold nevertheless. She crosses her arms and stares at the pavement as she kicks at some gravel with her boot, the blister now furiously stinging her heel.

“Am I seeing you again soon?” Karlie breaks the silence, “Let’s not leave it this long again.”

“Tour life,” Taylor apologises, “but I’ll try.”

“Next month?”

“Shows back to back.” It’s not even a lie. “Then Australia in October.”

“I see.” Karlie forces a smile, “Well. I’ll see you around, stranger.”

“Not if I see you first.” They look at each other before both laughing. “Sounds creepy, doesn’t it.” Taylor sighs, “I’m sorry. Of course I’ll try to see you soon. I haven’t been avoiding you,” She says, pulling the taller girl into a hug, “I’ve just been busy.”

It is a lie and they both know it. Karlie hums and the vibration of her lips against Taylor’s ear makes her shudder. Karlie’s not letting go and Taylor relaxes into the taller blonde’s arms, trying to ignore the palpable sting of her blister. There’s a whistling sound in the distance. The other three are already a block away, waving at Karlie to hurry and join them. Karlie pulls back and looks down at her.

“I have to go.”

“Same.” Taylor nods, “Go on.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Karlie.” Taylor sighs, turning to face the corner of the street and putting her hand up.

The black SUV’s lights pop on before the car starts to slowly roll toward them.

“I could have known.” Karlie’s laugh sounds infectious, “Of course they’re here. Is it still Sam?” She asks, earning a nod from Taylor, “Some things never change.”

“Some don’t, some do.”

It’s a loaded comment. They stand in silence until the car rolls up next to them and Karlie rushes forward, grabbing the door handle before Taylor can.

“Bye Tay.”

“Bye Kar.”

She does her best not to look at the blonde again before she slams the door shut. A fraction of a second later, she watches Karlie step back and wave at the tinted glass of the car. Taylor rests her hand on the window, comforted by the knowledge Karlie can’t see it. Seconds later, Karlie starts walking down the street and her SUV turns around, off to the Nashville house. She doesn’t look back in the rear-view mirror at all.

\---

The house is dark when she gets in, with the exception of dimmed light in the kitchen. It’s almost two in the morning, Joe is most definitely asleep. _I need water_. She makes her way to the kitchen and notices a post it note stuck to an apple in the middle of the kitchen island.

_Drink water! Take some ibuprofen! Hit me if I snore!_

She crumples up the note and throws it out before following Joe’s advice. She pops some ibuprofen pills, has a glass of water and finally reaches for the apple, taking a bite. Fairly sure it’s the one Joe took with him from the Nissan stadium, she eats her way around the core while pacing up and down the kitchen. The house is quiet and when she sits down on a stool to kick her boots off, they make too much noise. She cringes, hoping it hasn’t woken up Joe or the cats. She makes her way up the stairs, strips off and pulls on a tee, takes off her makeup and stares at her reflection in the mirror while she brushes her teeth. The blister is still throbbing but she's too tired to do anything about it.

_I’m lucky._

She repeats it to herself when she climbs into bed, listening to Joe’s gentle breathing next to her. No snoring.

_I’m lucky._


	2. Chapter II - I'm dying to know if it's killing you like it's killing me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor flies to Perth for the Oceania leg of the Reputation tour.  
Karlie gets married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: I have planned 40 chapters for this story so far.  
Bad news: I have planned 40 chapters for this story so far.
> 
> Slow burn, anyone?

_October 18, 2018._

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tree asks as they get into the SUV at the airport, “You look,” she pauses, “no offence but you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” Taylor breathes, “really. Just a bit queasy, I guess.”

“Long-haul flights.” Tree sighs, putting her seatbelt on, “We should touch down at the hotel in less than half an hour though. Rehearsal in the afternoon, plenty of time to rest up before the show tomorrow.”

Taylor hums in agreement and closes her eyes. It’s the first out of five shows on the penultimate leg of the tour and she can’t help but think that in just over a month, the Reputation tour will be over and done. She tries to focus on possible choices for surprise songs, the Rep Room meet-ups, the phone call she had with Joe before she got on the plane. The fact she’s not seen Karlie in seven weeks.

_Karlie_.

She remembers last week like it was just minutes ago. YouTube had sent a notification to her phone, titled _73 Questions With Karlie Kloss_. She’d startled both cats while she scrambled around looking for her headphones, not wanting to wake up Joe but also definitely wanting to hear every single thing Karlie had to say.

_‘What’s your workout regime?’_

_‘Cardio, abs and booty.’_

Taylor had smiled at the way Karlie said booty, and told herself she’d text the blonde after she’d watched it to make fun of her peculiar pronunciations. The smile had immediately turned into a solemn stare at the next question.

_‘Now, I just got to get this out of the way ‘cause the world deserves to know but is everything cool with you and Taylor?’_

Taylor froze. Midway through the question, Karlie flipped her hair and suddenly focussed on the screen of the Mac in front of her.

_‘The _world_ needs to know? Well, Jen – Jennifer Lawrence was interested, ah, Jen, don’t worry. Taylor and I are still really good friends.’_

It had been less than a minute into the video and Taylor already ripped her headphones out, sinking back into the sofa and staring at the blonde in her red Prada outfit, smiling into the camera. It was a shaky answer. It was a dodgy answer. It was a question she had not been comfortable with, her body language screamed she wasn’t, she stuttered throughout, the smile near the end had told Taylor everything she needed to know. She’d made it to question six out of seventy-three and had thrown her phone onto the coffee table, cursing to herself when the noise startled the cats for the second time in a few minutes.

“Taylor, we’re here.” Tree’s voice brings her back to the current situation, in the back of an SUV that drove haphazardly through Perth’s traffic, “Come on.”

The door opens and she’s met with four members of security and the back entrance of a swanky hotel. She grabs a bag and reaches for another when one of the security men steps in and takes both bags off of her.

“Thanks Jake.” She mumbles as Tree ushers her to the door someone holds open for her.

Tree’s got more stuff to say but none of it registers properly. When they reach the penthouse of the hotel and Tree finally stops talking, Taylor feels like she can breathe for the first time in hours. It all looks comfortable and clean and _quiet_ and that’s what she wants more than anything right now. _Quiet._

“It’s ten o’ clock local time,” Tree concludes, “Pick-up is at two, rehearsals at three, you’ve got the evening off, then tomorrow it’s two interviews and concert in the evening, then two days off. How does that sound?”

“Can we push rehearsals back an hour?” She tries, “I really could use some sleep. It’s not like I don’t _know_ the routine by now.”

“Sure.” The redhead sighs, “Why not. Pick-up at three, see you then.”

Tree has not yet left the room entirely when Taylor groans and flops down onto the bed, pleasantly surprised by the bouncy mattress. She’s not going to think of Karlie’s video anymore, like she’s done for the past few days. She’s in Australia, Joe is arriving in less than 24 hours, her mum is flying in after Perth and it’s going to be a great couple of weeks down under. Karlie can most definitely wait. She has waited long enough.

\---

“Hiya darling!”

Joe grins as he waltzes into the penthouse the next morning, carrying a bag while a bellboy follows him with a trolley and a suitcase. She gives him a wave and grins as he runs over and jumps over the backside of the sofa, falling down into the cushions next to her. It makes her laugh, especially when Joe turns around and apologises to the bellboy for hopping over the hotel’s furniture. He’s on his feet again straight away, grabbing some money out of his pocket and pushing it into the young guy’s hand.

“Thanks ever so much,” Joe says cheerfully, “Let me see you out.”

_So British._ Taylor thinks as she watches Joe let the bellboy out of the penthouse, closing the door unceremoniously behind him. She laughs as he runs over a second time, this time landing slightly more graceful than the first.

“What have I missed?”

“Not much.” Taylor shrugs, swinging her legs over his lap, “I had rehearsals yesterday, I’ve got an interview in like an hour,” She pauses, “_Killer_ jetlag, how are you not dying?”

“Flew in from London.” He leans back into the sofa cushion, “Shorter flight. Marginally. Would you mind if I slept mine off while you do your interview?”

“Not at all.”

“Cute. Dinner tonight?” He smiles, “Apparently there’s a great little place not too far from the Optius stadium, easy trip for us.”

“Sure.”

He pats her thigh and she lifts her legs up so he can leave. _I’m lucky_. She thinks as Joe walks off toward one of the bedrooms, humming a tune she doesn’t quite recognise.

\---

“Thank you so much, Taylor.” The brunette smiles at her as the cameras cut, “This was lovely.”

“Thank _you_.” Taylor responds, getting up from the director’s chair they had put out for the interview, “When will you guys post this?”

“Probably sometime tonight.” The producer chips in, “Might be while you are on stage. Where you off to next?”

“Melbourne.”

“Lovely city,” The guy smiles, “You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

There’s more small talk, more cordial handshakes and one-armed hugs and a few selfies with the crew. She loves Australia, she decides. The people are nice, the weather is not as humid as some US places, the food is great, it’s _good._ She continues to chat with the crew while they pack up their gear, stresses she appreciates their effort to come to the hotel to do the interview. She makes a mental note to thank Tree to arrange that for her and sees the crew out, happy to finally have some time to herself before the actual concert. With Joe asleep and Tree tied up in back-to-back conference calls, she can go through her social media undisturbed.

_Recent tweet from Karlie Kloss_

She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. Taylor’s thumb hovers over the screen for a couple of seconds of indecision before she swipes up and Twitter loads the tweet.

_10.18.2018 <3_

She freezes.

“What the _fuck_,” She mumbles, “what the _fuck_.”

On the screen is a picture of Karlie smiling, intertwining her fingers with Josh’s. In a forest. In a wedding dress.

“A wedding dress,” She whispers, “a _fucking_ wedding dress.”

It’s a surprise wedding. Karlie Kloss decided to have a surprise wedding. Taylor feels her heart pounding in her chest as she opens up Google and types almost every single keyword she can think of. The media has picked up on it already, so she goes through E! Online, she checks the CNN report, she reads the ongoing New York Times article, even TMZ have decided to do an impromptu report on Karlie’s wedding.

_‘Out of the blue nuptials for top model!’_

She sees Karlie’s friends, aptly dubbed the _bride tribe_. For a second, she feels hurt that she wasn’t asked to be a bridesmaid. Then she feels grateful because there is no way she would have accepted and that would have been another awkward conversation to have. Maybe it’s because Karlie knew she was going to be in Australia. Why did she throw a surprise wedding while she was in Australia, anyway? _Fuck_. There’s a consistent stream of new information every few minutes now – Jewish ceremony, upstate New York, only 80 invitees, photo shoot in a forest, a dress that looks like a De la Renta dress.

_She always wanted to get married in a Dior dress._

Surely it has to be Dior. Taylor finds herself zooming in onto the picture, looks at the lace, tries to remember any detail Karlie ever told her about Dior designs. She always wanted to get married in a Dior dress, Taylor hopes the Times got it wrong and the model actually got her wish.

“Hey,” There’s snapping fingers right next to her face, “where’ve you been? You look completely zoned out.”

Blue eyes are looking at her in mild amusement. She looks up into blue eyes under a blonde mop of hair and suddenly, she feels nauseated.

“I – I don’t feel great.” She mutters, jumping up, “Give me a minute.”

“Babe?” Joe calls after her, “Do I need to get someone? Taylor? Tay!”

She’s already in the bathroom. She turns the tap on. She turns the shower on. She feels hot and then cold and her heart might beat out of her chest and her mouth is salivating to the point where she thinks she might vomit. _Watch your hair._ She grabs one of the elastic bands on the side and ties her hair up in a quick bun before leaning over the toilet bowl. She can hear Joe from the foyer of the hotel room, probably on the phone to Tree already.

“I’m fine.” She croaks, even though she doesn’t believe it herself for a second, “Don’t phone Tree, I’m fine.”

She’s barely finished the sentence when she feels sick.

\---

The rest of the day is a blur. She makes it to the stadium, she makes it through the final rehearsal. She manages to eat something and hold it down, she manages to plaster a smile onto her face right before the traditional get-together with the dancers and the singers and the band. Charli gives her a funny look when she blanks a few people but apart from that, it all goes well. There are just two hours of performance to get through and she’ll have a week to get over the current sick feeling in her stomach. She’ll be fine by Melbourne, she’s sure of that. She’ll be fine.

“Taylor.”

Tree has a tendency to show up unannounced in her dressing room. Tree also moves around way too quietly for anyone to notice so from time to time, Taylor will just turn around and be faced with her PR genius.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She says it too quickly. A tell-tale sign. Tree knows by now.

“You’re ly-“

“I’m not lying.”

“Okay.” Tree grabs her phone, “Onto business then. Your interview got aired half an hour ago, very favourable reactions so far. Your mum has arrived but is possibly not going to make it in time to see the show, we wondered whether it would be okay to take her straight to the hotel. Joe is not going to be here tonight either,” Tree pauses, “Apparently his jetlag caught up with him.”

“That’s all fine,” Taylor responds coolly, happy that the round-up of news does not involve anything out of the ordinary, “thanks Tree. I’m just gonna do some vocal warm-ups and I’ll be out soon. If you see Kamilah, could you send her over? There’s something I’d like to run by her real quick.”

“And,” Tree adds, “Karlie Kloss announced she got married to Joshua yesterday, about seven hours ago. Some media outlets have been rounding up celebrity reactions? They’ve picked up that you have not liked her wedding pictures or said anything,” Tree looks up at her from her phone, “anywhere.”

“I don’t follow anyone on social media.” Taylor retorts, “That was your idea.”

“So…” Tree frowns, “You didn’t _know_ she got married yesterday?”

“I didn’t know she was planning to get married yesterday.”

“That’s,” The redhead sighs in frustration, “not what I asked.”

A silence falls over the dressing room as the two women look at each other. Taylor can almost _feel_ Tree mulling over things in her head and then almost _feels_ the PR manager’s pity as she speaks again.

“I can say you have a private life and not everything has to be said or done online.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Have you said something?” Tree tries, “Privately?”

“No.”

“Shall I arrange to send flowers or a card or something? _Anything_?”

The thought of sending flowers and a card sounds so trivial and so fake Taylor can’t even fathom the idea. She shakes her head more vigorously than she meant to.

“No.”

“But you are still friends?” Tree doesn’t give up, “Someone told me about her Vogue interview, she stressed that you two were still good friends. Surely you would congratulate your good friend the day she got married.”

_Fuck._

“Tree, I appreciate you and I love you a lot,” Taylor says slowly, “But I already have a mother, and I do not pay you to be her surrogate. If you could just _drop_ this conversation, that would be _great_.”

She almost immediately regrets saying it.

“Sure.” Tree brushes over the venomous response, “I’ll go find Kamilah.”

Australia is no longer fun.

\---

“Hey, how was it?” Joe meets her at the door of the penthouse, brushing some stray strand of hair out of her face, “Your mom got in like ten minutes ago. Do you wanna see her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Taylor frowns, “she’s my mom, of course I’m gonna see her.”

Joe blinks, momentarily unsure of what to say.

“Right.” He coughs, “Of course, yeah. I’m going to grab a drink in the lobby, if that’s okay?”

“Whatever, yeah.”

She can feel him stare after her as she walks through the foyer and pauses in front of the improvised living room. Andrea can be heard talking to the cats and Taylor sighs before dropping her coat onto the chair next to the door. _Game face. Game face._

“Hi mom!”

She does smile without trying when her mom turns and looks at her. The cats are immediately forgotten; Andrea walks over and engulfs her in a hug, squeezing her like only a mother could. Taylor sighs in relief as she wraps her arms tighter around the smaller woman, trying to prolong the moment as long as possible.

“Hi honey, how was it?” Andrea smiles at her, grabbing her hand and leading her to the sofas, “How have you had it here so far? What a _lovely_ hotel room.”

“It was good, yeah.” Taylor says as she sits down, holding onto her mother’s hand, “It’s been really nice, can’t complain.”

There’s a silence. Taylor focusses her attention on Olivia and Meredith, both now in fierce competition with each other over a catnip toy that she’d thrown at them this morning, before she found out about Karlie’s wedding and her life hadn’t been so _shit_.

“So, what is with that face?”

_Fuck_.

“Nothing,” she lies, “There’s nothing with my face.”

Andrea just stares at her, not impressed by her lie.

“And you expect me to believe that?”

And just like that, she feels like she’s 13 again. Sad and helpless and frustrated and _angry_ at herself for letting it get this far. She shakes her head in response to her mom. Andrea sighs and pats the sofa, signalling for Taylor to sit closer. She does, and when her mom wraps an arm around her again, she feels her final resolve crumble.

“Karlie got married.” She whispers against her mom’s shoulder.

“To that Kushner fellow?”

She nods and Andrea rubs her back gently.

“Oh honey.”

The pity she had sensed earlier with Tree, is now lacing her mother’s words too. She bunches up the fabric of her mom’s cardigan, trying to stop herself from crying. She is not going to cry, she just – she is not.

“Have you spoken to her?”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t think I can,” She whispers, knowing it’s too late to swallow the tears that have been slowly creeping up on her, “I don’t know –“

“It’s okay.” Andrea says with conviction, “You don’t owe anyone anything. If you don’t want to acknowledge it or talk about it, that is your call. And if you don’t want to talk to Karlie about it, that’s your prerogative too. I’m sure she understands.”

Taylor freezes. Her mom stops rubbing her back for a second and Taylor sits back up.

“Did Tree tell you?” She asks. _I’m going to murder her._

“It’s Tree’s job to look after you, honey.” Andrea sighs, “She filled me in when I landed, said I shouldn’t worry about you too much, that you were in a bit of a mood but you were fine.”

“I am.”

They both know it’s a lie. It’s hard to miss. The pictures keep coming back to her mind and inevitably, memories of Karlie and her lying on the ground in the living room in New York, talking about weddings and marriages and vows and flower arrangements. _Dior dresses._ There’s one memory that stands out because Karlie rested her head on her shoulder while they watched the cats and suddenly lifted her head to look at her. _‘I think I’d ask you.’_ Taylor quickly dismisses it, feeling sick again.

“So, how was your flight?”


	3. Chapter III - I think he knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new song tonight AND I'm getting to see Taylor perform in Hyde Park on 11 July - what a good day.
> 
> For those wondering: this story is at no point going to be a Joe x Taylor pairing but also I thought it'd be kind of nice to write a, well, nice Joe. So there's that.
> 
> Thank you so much for kudos, comments and general goodness. I appreciate you guys a lot. (Also, find me on WattPad if that's easier to read on mobile - same username, same fic!)

_November 19, 2018._

“O_ri_gato or ori_ga_to?”

They are standing near the window, overseeing the brightest-lit district of Tokyo. Despite the paracetamol she had before the flight and the painkillers ten minutes ago, Taylor’s headache is pounding and the penultimate rehearsal knocked her for six. Joe shrugs, running a hand through his hair as it falls in front of his eyes.

“Second one, I think.” He says softly, “Hey – is your deal done?”

She nods and it earns her a playfully soft punch in the shoulder.

“Well done,” She turns to look at a grinning Joe, “We should celebrate.”

“I’m not sure whether you have noticed but I have got a show to perform tomorrow, and then the final one in general.”

“I know, darling, but still.” Joe pauses, “You have to eat anyway, don’t you? How about you do whatever it is you need to do for the rest of today and I’ll take you out tonight? Quick bite to eat somewhere, just you and me.” He grins, “Get a cheeky drink afterwards!”

“Actually”, She draws out, “Yeah. Yes. Good thinking, Joseph.”

“Hey.” He grunts, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, _Joseph_?” Taylor grins, “I’m sorry, I do appreciate you a lot.”

“That’s,” The blonde Brit squints, “A choice of words.”

Taylor hums and continues looking over the city. Joe’s moving around in the hotel room and going through devices and cables until the room finally goes silent. In the reflection of the glass, she can see him sit on one of the ottomans, typing away on his phone. _Quite lucky._ She ponders over the deal she’s signed with Tree and the lawyers, the head honchos from UMG, the looks she got from Tree and her team when she added her own caveat near the end, then the looks of the men at the opposite side of the table.

_I’d like to ask that any sale of your Spotify shares result in a distribution of money to the artists, non-recoupable. Not just mine, all of them._

Monte had looked at Lucian and the latter has just grinned, gestured at one of the lawyers to put it down in writing and that had been it. She’d felt incredible in the moment, if it weren’t for Tree’s foot on hers, slightly pushing down. Afterwards, the redhead had given her grief for a solid five minutes about _letting her know beforehand_ and _strategies_ and _commitment analyses with the lawyers_ and she’d let her rant for a while. The conversation had ended with Tree smiling and saying she’d done_ good_.

It was all she ever wanted, really.

\---

If Tokyo had been bright before, it’d got even worse with the dozens of paparazzi lurking in every shop or café or hotel lobby in the district. The flashes, if possible, made her headache even worse. Joe, who she would argue was the most patient person she knew, muttered under his breath when two paparazzi on a motorbike drove past them close enough for one to knock against Taylor’s bag.

“Watch it!” He snaps, “And you two,” he turns to Sam and Jake, “aren’t you supposed to make sure that does _not_ happen?”

“Leave it, it’s fine.” Taylor tries to soothe.

“Well, it’s not.” The blonde man grunted, “It’s mental, Taylor. It’s not normal – _hey_,” She turns to look in the direction he is shouting in before several flashes go off, “oh my god, _stop_.”

Jake is already walking over to stop the impromptu photoshoot and Joe does not waste anytime reaching for her hand and clasping it in his before rushing to the black SUV parked in front of the hotel. There are a few more flashes, although Taylor is sure Jake will have made sure the shots were useless, and then it’s dark. _Thank god for tinted windows._

“Right,” Joe seems to have calmed down almost instantly, “sorry about that. It’s just very,” he looks at her, “fishbowl-y, you know?”

Silence.

“What is?”

“You know.”

“Tell me.” Taylor feels a familiar unease creep in, “Dating me?”

“Well,” Joe seems to mull over his words, “yeah.” He states rather quickly, “They’re just everywhere, all the time, it just gets on your nerves, doesn’t it?”

She just looks at him. He’s not wrong. Of course he’s not wrong. He echoes the exact same thing the first Joe had said. And Taylor. Harry. Jake. Karlie.

_Karlie._

In fact, she remembers it as if it happened yesterday. Karlie and her bodyguard buzzing the flat like crazy one day two summers ago, Taylor’s security letting them in and then Karlie storming into the Cornelia Street penthouse, rushing past a curious Olivia and a furious Meredith, for once not avoiding that one really annoying creaking floorboard and launching straight into a rant about the paparazzi that seemed to permanently stake out Taylor’s place.

_It’s just so fucking awful, Tay. How do you even deal with it?_ The blonde had grunted, running her hand through her hair in a way similar to Joe’s, _Doesn’t it make you want to scream?_

In response, she’d just walked over to Karlie and pulled her into a hug. Standing on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around the taller woman’s neck had amused Karlie enough to halt her angry breathing and she’d relaxed in Taylor’s embrace.

_I deal with it because I’m living pretty close to you._ She’d murmured into the nape of Karlie’s neck and Karlie had turned briefly, pressing soft lips upon an even softer cheek.

_Such a way with words._ Green eyes had looked at her in amusement, _What do you want to do then?_

Taylor had answered and Karlie had gasped in mock shock. It had turned out to be a nice evening, just the two of them. She’d hoped the same for tonight but Joe’s outburst was slightly more explosive than Karlie’s.

“I’m sorry.”

Joe’s voice draws her back to the car.

“Don’t be, I know it’s a lot.”

“You deal with it so well though,” he sighs, “Like you’ve had this going on for over a decade and you still haven’t once lost your cool. You’ll have to teach me.”

“Do I now?”

“Yeah!” Joe grins, “I _am_ sticking around, you know that, right?”

“Joe,” Taylor smiles, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

\---

Dinner is nothing short of spectacular. The concept of going for a quiet bit to eat (instead there had been quite some photographs and signatures and Japanese fans screaming her name) and time between the two of them (technically checked off, not taking into account half of her security detail being in the backroom of the restaurant with them had been idealistic but the food itself had been stunning.

“I literally cannot believe you don’t know how to eat prawns.”

“They are _hard_,” Taylor yelps, “And they’re hot, so getting them to do the crack thing and then trying to –“

“You twist the head off, crack down the middle, take the legs, crack down the back, peel away, done.” Joe grins, “I’ll teach you when we’ve got more time.”

They’re roaming the streets late enough at night for there to be relatively few people walking around. Security is ahead of them, with two tailing behind, and Taylor feels at ease. It had been a while since she’d been in Japan and it would probably take another while to come back, she may as well make the most of it.

“Drink?” Joe tries, “I’m sure they do decent wine here somewhere.”

“Sure.”

“TripAdvisor, hold on.” Taylor holds onto Joe’s hand as they continue walking, grinning at a tune he is whistling quietly.

“You are _murdering_ whatever song that is.”

“Sophie Ellis Bextor wrote a song about murder on the dance floor, did you know that?” He grins, “There’s a really funny theory about it too – oh, hold on.”

They stand still in the middle of the pavement and Taylor counts the steps (four) it takes before her security detail in front is told by the ones in the back they’ve halted.

“It’s okay, Jake.” Taylor signals to the security guy behind, coming over to them, “We’re just gonna go for a quick drink.”

“It’s to the right and then down to the left.” Joe looks around, “Do I – do I send security the address or what?”

“Nah.” Taylor shrugs, “Let’s wing it.”

\---

_Another brilliant idea by Joe._

They are sitting in a booth in a cocktail bar, Joe playing with the sheer number of umbrella’s in his drink while Taylor’s stirring her vodka and diet coke. Once they’d been seated, she’d taken her phone out to snap a quick picture and noticed Tree’s missed calls and the few texts the PR guru had sent afterwards. _Don’t forget to post about your new UMG deal. Instagram, share it onto the others. Let me know if you want the team on it._

“Monte,” Joe smiles, “What a good name to be fair.”

She can’t help but agree. She picks a picture she has of the three of them together – Lucian, Monte and herself – and posts it, before putting her phone down again. The bar has an insane view and the owner was delighted to see her walk in, gave her the best seats in the house immediately. There’s a moment she smiles at Joe as he’s drinking and he smiles back and there’s _something_ about him that reminds her of a youthful innocence that makes her want to go back to the hotel and write a song about him. _Just one_.

Her phone vibrates. Taylor glances at it, seeing Karlie’s name flash across the screen. Almost instantly, she turns her phone face down, just like she has been doing the past couple of days. Ever since last month, there’s a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach each time someone mentions Karlie, it’s been obvious enough for Joe to notice so she decided on a new course of action. _Ignore it._

“Taylor?”

She vaguely recognises the voice but can’t really pinpoint it. It’s coming from behind and Joe is _staring_, there’s no other word for it. For a split second she is disappointed that there are other Americans around, which immediately screws up her privacy. Her phone vibrates and her heart skips a bit because there are only five people whose texts get the vibration privilege so whatever it is, it’s important.

“Hello.” Joe stands up, extending his hand.

_What on earth._ Taylor turns around and is met by three _tall_ women. Drop-dead gorgeous women, which explains Joe’s sudden speechlessness. They look like actual models, which is exactly when the penny drops. _They’re models._ She recognises at least one of them back from the VA fashion shows and quickly recovers, giving the girl a bright smile and pulling her in for a hug.

“Hi!” _Good job, very enthusiast._ “It’s been ages, how have you been?”

“All good, how are you?” The brunette flashes her a smile, “Excited for this gig tomorrow?”

“You know about that.”

“Yeah!” The brunette grins, “We got tickets to come and see it.”

_Great._

“That’s so exciting.” She smiles again, “It’s just so different, isn’t it? The entire vibe of it.”

“We were saying the same thing earlier – we’re on a shoot.”

_Karlie_. For a hot second, it does not seem inconceivable Karlie is going to be there. She might. She’s not heard from her in months but knowing her luck, this is the moment Karlie walks into this very bar and decides to catch up.

“I’m Joe.”

The four women almost simultaneously turn to the Brit, who is standing there more sheepishly than Taylor has ever seen him before.

“Joe, my boyfriend.” Taylor smirks, “These are Lily, Ashley and,” She looks at the third girl, “Behati.”

“Nice to meet you. Hello. Hi.” He is quick to shake more hands, gestures for them to sit down at their table, much to Taylor’s annoyance.

“Oh,” Lily gestures, “thanks but we’re not stopping, we are up at four for another shoot. But I’m sure I’ll see you soon anyway.”

“Definitely.” She almost sighs in relief.

“Oh,” Lily stops in her tracks as the other two girls are already on their way out, “Weird question maybe – have you spoken to Karlie lately?”

Taylor feels her blood run cold. The world passes by almost in slow motion as Joe sits down again and she is left alone standing there with Lily, who is now eyeing her curiously.

“Not in a while,” She hears herself speak, “you know what it’s like, quite busy with touring and stuff.”

“I spoke to her like ten minutes ago, weirdly enough.” Lily shrugs, “She asked if I’d seen you around, you know, with the both of us being here in Tokyo.”

_How does she know where I am? Schedule? Has she been looking at my social media?_

“I’ll give her a call once these concerts are over and done.” Taylor mumbles, stepping in closer and hugging Lily briefly, “Tell her I hope she’s well next time you speak to her.”

“Because I’m going to talk to her sooner than you are?” Lily cocks her head to the side in suspicion, “In two days’ time?”

“Jetlag.” Taylor lies, “You know what those are like.”

“Sure. Bye Taylor, lovely seeing you.”

Taylor remains standing for a few seconds until the models, including Lily, have gone into the elevator. _Fuck._ She groans and sits down in the booth again. What’s left of her drink is quickly drunk, anything to avoid having to talk about what’s just happened.

“Well,” Joe breaks the silence, “that was awkward.”

“I thought that went fine.” Taylor mumbles, “You were star struck so I’m not really sure why you would expect me to be totally fine around them anyway.”

“They are _models_.” Joe smirks, “I’m only human. Besides, you are gorgeous and tall too, if this singing thing would not have worked out, you’d have been one of them anyway, there’s no reason why you would be nervous around them anyway, you did shows with them.”

There’s a compliment or two hidden in there. It’s something Joe does quite often – she likes it. She hums as a means of concession and looks down at the melting ice in her now empty glass.

“Final one for the road?”

\---

It’s half one at night when they get to the hotel room. Taylor makes all the guys on the security team solemnly swear they will not tell Tree about the time they got back. _Pinky promise me, Jake. You have to, I’m your boss._ She giggles as Joe stumbles over one of the cables on the floor where they have been charging their devices and kicks off her shoes unceremoniously.

“I’m gonna shower.” She announces, slightly too loudly for her own liking, “I’ll be quick.”

The bathroom is large enough for the acoustics to _really_ echo, she realises when she turns the shower on. Her eyes are stinging and she leans over the sink, popping one of her lenses out before staring at her reflection in the mirror. She closes one eye at the time, amused by how _shit_ her vision really is if she’s not wearing any lenses. _Should probably get that sorted out now I’m done touring._

“Can I ask you something?”

She didn’t expect Joe to sneak up on her while she was in here but she’s also not surprised at his timing. Many nights of this tour, one of the last things heard at night were one of Joe’s classic overthinking moments – something she related to quite a bit.

“Sure babe.”

She leans over the sink again, trying to get the second lens out too.

“Why have you not been in touch with Karlie as much in the past few months? I know you have been busy and I’m sure she is too but you have to admit,” He pauses and Taylor can feel him stare holes in her back, “it was never an issue before and now you haven’t seen her since what, August?”

_Fuck._

“Like you just said,” She says slowly, taking out the second lens and squishing it between her fingers, “we are both busy. Just conflicting schedules.”

She looks up at the mirror and stares at his reflection as he stands in the doorway. The fact she’s currently got quite blurry vision is definitely helping because she manages to keep eye contact (assumingly) without blinking.

“Okay.” Joe doesn’t back off, “So why are you avoiding her texts?”

“I’m not.”

“Only you _are_.” The blonde man sighs, “Look, I’m not saying you have to tell me _everything_, alright? I have got to know you and I feel like I know you well enough to gauge what is going on either way, but this,” He gestures, but she can’t pinpoint what exactly he is trying to bring across, “_Karlie_ thing. I could come out and say what I _think_ but I feel like that is something you really don’t want.”

“I don’t like Josh.”

She blurts it out and almost immediately regrets it. The bathroom is getting steamy and she wonders whether she should turn the shower off. On the other hand, that might spur Joe on to stay in the bathroom even longer and right now, that’s the last thing she wants.

“Obviously you would not like him.” Joe says softly, “_Obviously_.”

She turns around, right in time to see Joe walk over to her.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She mumbles.

The feeling of acute vulnerability is not helping the sick feeling. The sound of the shower is getting on her nerves now and before she has a chance to say anything, Joe takes a few quick steps toward the shower, turns it off and comes back.

“It’s not a Josh and Karlie issue.” He mumbles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently, “It’s a _Karlie_ issue. Maybe it’s time you consider that.”

Before she realises it, Joe’s out of the room.

_I think he knows._


	4. Chapter IV - Back to December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will all pick up some speed in 2019, I promise. If you are enjoying it so far, make sure to check back on Friday. There won't be an update to this story (I tend to stick to 5-ish days per update, for future reference) but in celebration of someone turning 30, there might be a one-shot. Just saying!

_December 31, 2018._

For the first time in her life, she regrets that she is not a smoker.

The room is full of her friends in fancy costumes and in between copious amounts of pizza and crudités, bottle after bottle of booze and the music playlist everyone seems to be putting their own spin on, she thinks she might be okay. 2019 might be off to a good start in a few hours. Joe is in charge of ice (‘_But not the cups’_ – a reference that had gone over his head and made her feel silly for a split second) and she _needs_ the ice. Ryan has dug up some Jack Daniels and despite the fact she’d never disgrace it with a mixer, she does need it on the rocks.

“Ice!” Joe grins, slamming a bucket down on the table.

Seconds later, she clinks her glass against Ryan’s and takes a large sip of the drink. It’s cold and it burns down her throat when she swallows. Tempted to have another when Blake joins them and sits on Ryan’s lap.

“Don’t get him wasted.” She smirks at Taylor before kissing Ryan, “You having a good time, babe?”

“As long as nobody takes unexpected pictures of me, I’ll be _grand_.”

Right away, Taylor is transported to the memory of sitting in Tom’s lap and the subsequent torrent of _shit_ the media had bestowed on her the next day. Her parents had laughed it off, Tree had gone into a frantic damage limitation mode and Taylor had spent that entire day in 2016 lounging in her living room, eating Maltesers.

“You should _definitely_ get a picture.” Blake punches him in the shoulder gently, “Look at you. And look at _you_,” she grins at Taylor, “the prettiest Ariel I have ever seen.”

They both try to change Blake’s mind for a few seconds but she’s already on her feet, digging up her phone and making people walk around her as she backs up. Next to her, Taylor can hear Ryan sigh.

“Here,” he mumbles, handing her an almost empty bottle of Jack’s, “bottoms up.”

They both do their best to look unimpressed as they take the final swigs of the bottles and after the flash has blinded them, Blake is happy enough to let them enjoy their conversation in peace. Ryan quips about her crab purse and Taylor retaliates by saying something about his shirt and the banter that happens after relaxes her enough to feel at ease again.

\---

“Your parties are ace.” Joe grins as he wraps an arm around her waist loosely. “Well done, babe.”

_Ace_.

“Do you think there’s enough food?” She glances at him, suddenly impressed by his profile, “Should I order more pizzas or something?”

In classic fashion, she had invited dozens of people – a built-in back-up system in case people wouldn’t show up or cancel and she’d dress up for maybe five people. _The joys of being a famous introvert._ While there had been a dozen people a few hours ago, the number had steadily gone up and she wouldn’t be surprised if there were currently about 50 people having drinks and mingling in her house.

“C’mon,” Joe says as he grabs her hand, “let’s see what we can find in the kitchen first.”

There’s only so much that is in that fridge and she knows it. She leans back against the kitchen counter as Joe opens up the fridge door and stares inside.

_Hummus._

“Jesus, there is _so_ much hummus here.”

_Chicken tenders._

“Oh, and chicken tenders.”

_Salad._

“And… salad. Okay yeah, you may wanna get some pizzas in.”

More people are starting to file into the kitchen as Taylor grabs the phone and tries to order a dozen pizzas to be delivered to the house. Gigi and Leah are all over the kitchen counter, trying to sign what they want for toppings. It’s messy and incomprehensible and Taylor finds herself just order one of each on the menu.

“What time are they delivering?” Gigi asks as soon as Taylor puts the phone down, trying to precariously balance her Mary Poppins hat on her head, “Soon?”

“Forty-five minutes.” Taylor grins as the model grunts, “You’ll manage.”

“Hey!” Abigail pops her head into the kitchen, “We’re going to count down in the garden, the guys are trying to sort out the fireworks.

Taylor manages to grab the little crab purse before Gigi grabs her arm and drags her to the patio, followed closely by everyone else. There’s a faint vibration in her bag and Taylor can’t help the urge to check it. _Might be mom._

_‘Happy New Year, princess xxx’_

And just like that, her heart is pounding out of her chest.

* * *

_The New York flat had been empty for weeks and she could feel it in the air. The cleaners had done a great job and the janitor had been kind enough to adjust the thermostat and check the heating and water but it still felt as if she had come home to a stranger’s house. Meredith had not minded at all. She ignored Taylor’s grouch as expertly as Taylor usually ignored hers and had made herself comfortable on the sofa._

_Writing songs had not been easy the past few weeks. Hanging out with friends had not been easy. Smiling as her parents asked how life was treating her had not been easy. None of it could be done with the same kind of ease Karlie had portrayed when she said she was going to spend NYE with Josh. They were now two days into the new year and Taylor realised she had yet to see anyone that was not a part of her security detail._

_And then there had been a knock on the door._

_Usually knocks on her door signalled someone close to her had decided to come around; someone security cleared automatically without checking in with her first. The list of pre-clears was astonishingly short. Her family, Tree, two producers and a handful of friends – none of which had indicated they were going to come around any time soon._

_Unless –_

_She had known it as soon as she opened the door and the scent of a Dior perfume wafted in, followed by six foot two of blonde joy._

_“Happy 2015!”_

_“Hi Karlie.”_

_The taller girl had been lightly offended by the lack of enthusiasm but plonked down on the sofa anyway, picking up Meredith who did not look as alarmed as when Taylor would try to pick her up and smooching her gently._

_“Thought I’d come around to see you, nobody seems to have heard anything from you lately.”_

_“Maybe because I don’t want to see anyone.” Taylor sighed, trying to keep her cool now Karlie was sitting in her actual living room, “Just trying to have some me-time.”_

_“Me-time is _so_ important,” Karlie nodded in approval, “That’s what I have been doing yesterday. Literally spent a large part of NYE with Josh but then he had to fly to some country – Dubai, I think, and –“_

_“Dubai is not a country."_

_“What?”_

_“Dubai is part of the Emirates.” Taylor heard herself say, unsure why this was the battle she chose to pick with Karlie, over anything else._

_“Okay?” Karlie squinted in confusion, “He flew off to the Emirates. So, I stayed at the party until like one because you know, manners, and then just went back to West Village and had a nap. Did nothing yesterday but eat chicken tenders and hummus.”_

_“And now you are here.”_

_“Now I am here.” Karlie nodded again, a smile creeping into the corners of her mouth._

_“And that is because…” Taylor’s gestures prompted the girl to spit it out._

_“Because I have an interesting factoid to share with you, Taylor Alison.” _

_Taylor hated it when someone used her middle name, which is why only a handful of people knew about it. She’d told Karlie sometime during their Big Sur trip and she had _not_ let it go._

_“Do _not_ –“ _

_“Oh, shush.” Karlie grinned, getting up and walking over to where Taylor was standing. “Right, so apart from the mistletoe tradition at Christmas, there’s another one at NYE that says you have a great year with the people you choose to spend the start of the year with.”_

_“Not sure how either of those relate to me, I haven’t seen you since the concert.”_

_Karlie’s smile had faltered for just a second. The 4th of December had been burned into her memory, and she assumed it had been the same for Karlie. Tree, as per usual, had been on the phone to The 1975’s manager the next day, emailed dozens of media outlets to take down pictures and change articles and in good habit, Taylor had nursed her hangover on the sofa, eating Maltesers. Karlie had not been around the flat since._

_“Let me just get through this, please,” Karlie muttered, “I know I haven’t seen you over the holidays and I know I didn’t see you at NYE but I _texted_ you and you never even replied, which is partly the reason why I’ve come around here today because I _miss_ you and I wanted to know if we were cool and –“_

_“We’re cool.” Taylor interrupted, “So if that is all –“_

_“It’s not.”_

_A Mexican standoff had nothing on this encounter. Taylor had watched carefully as the model dug through her miniature backpack – so unpractical – and had pulled out a sparkler and a lighter._

_“Hold on,” Taylor frowned, “No no no, you can _not _light that – Karlie!”_

_Karlie had thrown caution to the wind and lit the sparkler anyway. Meredith had hissed and retreated to the far back corner of the room and Taylor had just stared at Karlie as the sparkler burnt down at a steady pace._

_“I’m a sucker for tradition and I need my 2015 to be special. Five.”_

_Green eyes were focussed onto hers._

_“Four.”_

_Taylor’s mind had gone into overdrive._

_“Three.”_

_The sizzling of the sparkler flared up and for a second, she was concerned her fire alarm would go off any time now._

_“Two.”_

_She swallowed, and saw Karlie swallow, too._

_“One.”_

_She inadvertently held her breath as the sparkler died, shooting off its final sparks before a small plume of smoke arose and Karlie put it down onto the marble kitchen counter._

_“Happy new year, princess.”_

_Karlie closed the distance between them and pressed her lips upon Taylor’s and she’d felt _alive_ again. She could write songs, and see friends, and smile at her mother without having to lie. She leant back against the kitchen counter and smiled into the kiss as Karlie moved along, putting both of her hands onto the counter next to Taylor, effectively trapping her. Taylor breathed into the kiss and grabbed onto Karlie’s hips as the taller blonde pulled away just slightly._

_“I wanted you to be my first kiss this year.”_

_“Hmmm.”_

_“Are we good?” Karlie whispered and Taylor could have sworn she sounded petrified of the answer, “You’re not annoyed anymore?”_

_“Just a little.” Taylor mumbled, “I’ll get over it.”_

_“Can I stay over?”_

_Taylor pulled back and stared into the taller girl’s eyes as she stood awkwardly between Taylor’s legs. There was a small nod from her and then a relieved smile from Karlie and the third of January had been a good day. And a good night._

_* * *_

“Five!"

Taylor looks around and suddenly her life does not feel real anymore. A fancy-dress Avril Lavigne and Gwen Stefani are enthusiastically jumping up and down with Posh Spice and Blake and Ryan are watching Joe and some other guys do the fireworks and she is standing there, with a crab purse and a dress that looks like a fishtail and a red wig.

“Four!”

It’s New Year’s Eve and she should be living in the here and now and maybe think of the past year and look forward to 2019 but all she can think of is the hummus and chicken tenders in the fridge and the fact Karlie is not here and everything is just _bland_ without Karlie.

“Three!”

She is happy. She has a good life and she has fun and Joe is great and most of the time, she does not even realise her thoughts keep drifting back to the giraffe of a model and her concentrated face as she was coding and her analyses when they looked at fashion pictures and gold-flaked green eyes that looked at Taylor when the sun came up.

“Two!”

And there is this freckle on her face that Taylor declared her favourite during one of their first get-togethers and it had remained her favourite until that day in Big Sur where they’d come in after a day on the beach and she had kissed Karlie in a moment of exceptional bravery and had ended up seeing way more of the blonde, including a freckle she had run her fingers over and then her lips and then her fingers again whilst declaring it had become her new favourite.

“One!”

She doesn’t want to think of Karlie and the way green eyes would flicker to her lips for a fraction of a second before kissing her. She doesn’t want to think about the way the younger woman would curl her fingertips into the skin of her sides as she pulled her closer. She does _not_ want Karlie to be the first thought she has in the new year.

“Happy New Year!”

Joe jumps back as he lights the fireworks and runs over to her, kissing her as the fireworks start going off. She closes her eyes, because kissing with your eyes open is bad luck and she does _not_ need that in 2019. Her wig shifts a bit but she doesn’t care. Joe kisses her again and grins, and she lets her fingers run through the stubble of his beard, pecking him on the lips softly.

“Happy New Year, babes.” He smiles.

“Happy New Year.”

2019 will be good. She just knows it.

\---

Most of her guests have gone by the time she makes it to the bathroom and sits down on the toilet, cursing the fish tail dress and all of its impracticalities. Finally alone, she opens up the crab purse aptly named Sebastian and checks her phone. There are dozens of texts which she all ignores, only taking time to text her parents and Austin back. She pees, and contemplates, and stares at her phone again. Without thinking about it too much, she goes back into the chat with Karlie and re-reads the four words from earlier on. Glancing at the top left of the phone, the screen reads 03:20. _That’s a safe bet._ There is no way Karlie is awake so there won’t be a reaction right away, she can stall – it’s perfect.

_‘Happy New Year, Kar. x’_

She puts the phone down straight away and finishes up. It’s when she is washing her hands that her phone starts ringing. _Who the hell rings someone anymore?_

The number is withheld and immediately she’s filled with dread, but decides to pick up the phone anyway.

“Hello?”

“_Still using impeccable punctuation in your messages, I see?”_

Of course, it’s Karlie.

“Why are you still awake?”

_“It’s like half ten here.”_

Silence.

“Half ten where?”

_“South Africa,” _There is a small pause, _“I’m on my minimoon with Josh, remember?”_

“Oh yeah. Yeah, right, minimoon.”

_It’s not even a fucking word._ She stares at her reflection in the mirror as Karlie mentions having really nice food and visiting a vineyard and seeing elephants and lions on a safari.”

“Did you see giraffes?”

_“Only when I look in the mirror.”_

They both laugh. It still freaks Taylor out how they cannot speak to each other for weeks and then one of them will initiate a conversation (it is almost always Karlie) and it will feel familiar enough for one of them to try and keep it going (it is almost always Taylor).

“So –“

_“How did your fancy dress party go? I have been seeing pictures, I think Blake’s my second favourite but you take the cake. Did you call the purse Sebastian?”_

“Of course I did.” Taylor grins, running her fingers over the small red purse, “Hey Karlie?”

_“Yeah?”_

“Can I ask you a question?”

_“You just did.”_ There’s a chuckle on the other side of the line and for just a split second, Taylor realises their age difference does show sometimes, _“Sorry, go on.”_

“Are you happy?”

She realises it is a fucked up question because they both know she wants Karlie to be happy but simultaneously hopes the answer is negative.

_“I guess? Why?”_

“You sound happy. And you know, I do want you to be happy.”

_“I want you to be happy too.”_

“But you are? Happy?”

Silence.

_“This minimoon is really fun, yeah. Am I happy? Sure, yeah. I’m happy.”_

“Good.”

_“Good.”_

“Okay, well,” Taylor clears her throat, “I’m gonna have to go because I still have got some guests here and I’m trying to not be a shit host.”

_“You could not be a shit host if you tried. Are you still hoarding hummus and chicken tenders in case of a zombie apocalypse?”_

_No, just in case you come around._

“Maybe.”

_“I’ll leave you to it. We’re going to walk up some mountain today, I think. Flying back tomorrow, not looking forward to that. Am I seeing you sometime soon?”_

“Maybe.”

_“Bye Taylor.”_

The phone line closes and Taylor watches her reflection in the mirror as her phone screen lights up brightly for just a second and then goes black again.

“Stupid,” she mumbles, “you are fucking stupid.”

When she gets out of the bathroom, Joe is still entertaining a handful of people.

“Hey, come sit!”

“Just a second, gonna grab some Diet Coke.” She yells, walking into the kitchen.

The bottle of vodka looks inviting. She pours herself some Diet Coke, and adds a few shots' worth. _Fuck 2019._


	5. Chapter V - New Year's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really appreciate that people are not incredibly cross at my portrayal of Joe so far. I'm also really happy that you guys don't seem to mind there is not a lot of IRL Kaylor interaction so far - promise it's imminent! As always, votes & feedback always appreciated.
> 
> And if you had not yet noticed - 4K one-shot called "Thirty" was published on Friday, head over and have a read if you fancy it!

“Do you think this classifies as life imitating art?”

The state of her living room makes her want to drop the bin bag she’s holding and go back to bed. But it’s past noon already and Joe seemed keen on helping her clean up before he had to go back to the UK for the time being and she _really_ should do something productive before inevitably crawling back into bed.

“What?” She swallows, her throat awkwardly dry after last night’s drinking.

“You know,” Joe gestures, ripping a bin bag from the roll and handing one to Taylor, “cleaning up bottles with you on,” he clears his throat before singing wildly out of tune, “New Year’s Day.”

Taylor laughs as both cats scurry out of the living room and shakes her head.

“No taxis, no friends in the living room, the prerequisites have not been met.” She shrugs, “We need cardboard boxes or something.”

“What you need is a housekeeper,” Joe mumbles, “I genuinely don’t understand why you just don’t, you know, get one.”

She knows he has a point but she has thought about it before and there are about seventeen arguments against getting a housekeeper – she made a list. The cats might not like whoever she hires. She might be allergic to cleaning products they prefer to use. They might drop one of her breakables. They might find loosely jotted down lyrics here and there and throw them out or even worse, take them home, or sell them, or -

“I like my privacy.”

“As if your team would not vet the absolute _fuck_ out of anyone who would come into this place,” Joe shakes his head, tossing an empty bottle of Jack Daniels into the bag, “I’m just saying – you should consider it.”

“I’ll have a think.”

She won’t. She has had the exact conversation before in the Beverly Hills estate.

-

_“Please be quiet.” She begged as Karlie almost fell out of the car giggling, “Kar. Karlie, please,” she muttered under her breath even though she could not help but smiling at the taller blonde, “Kar, come on.”_

_“As if your entire security team has not been monitoring every single step we take since we drove onto the estate.” Karlie replied, annoying rational for someone as tipsy as she, “I’m sure they have infrared or night vision or _something_ and they are watching us right now, trying to read my lips to see what I am saying to their boss.”_

_“Let’s hope they can read mine too then when I say we should get in.” Taylor replied dryly, closing the car door and linking her arm with Karlie’s, “Come on. Try to not make a mess.”_

_“Do you think they can?”_

_“Do I think they can _lip read_?” Taylor echoed, “I don’t know, that was not a question we asked when they got interviewed for the job.”_

_“Will you ask?”_

_“I’ll ask them tomorrow when I see them, I promise.”_

_The easiest way to get Tipsy Karlie to cooperate was to indulge in her weird quirks. The model relaxed now she knew Taylor was going to find out for her and happily bumped into Taylor’s side as they walked to the front door._

_“I had a really nice time.” Karlie continued, “And I wanted you to know that,” she paused as Taylor unlocked the door, “It’s important that you know.”_

_“Say that again.” Taylor grinned, tapping in the alarm code for the main house._

_“Important.” Karlie mumbled, “Hey.”_

_Taylor turned around, looking into curious green eyes._

_“Yah?”_

_“Your security code is my birthday.” Karlie whispered, “080392, that’s my birthday.”_

_In the back of her mind, she wondered why she managed to plan albums years in advance and drop dozens of Easter eggs when it came to marketing and releasing new things but she could not fool a tipsy Karlie Kloss. Feeling caught out, she quickly hit the _enter_ button, hoping she had not left it too late and her entire security detail would come over from the guest house to check upon her._

_“Is it now?”_

_“You knew that.” Karlie said and it sounded nothing like a question, just a statement. “It’s cute. You’re cute. You’re,” She sighs, “really nice.”_

_“You are _so_ drunk.”_

_“I’m not _that_ drunk.” Karlie retorted, “I just had a really nice time with my really nice friend and I’m really happy I can sleep over. Just,” she gestured, “really happy.” and then “I have a secret.”_

_Taylor suddenly became nervous. She had never been one to drink much around Karlie because she’d always feared the alcohol might make the truth come out and that was something she was not prepared to go through, not with Karlie, not after only three months of friendship, a fashion show and a few hang outs._

_“You should keep your secrets safe,” Taylor forced a smile, “It’s like that Pretty Little Liars intro, two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.”_

_“I like you.”_

_Karlie did not seem phased at all. It sounded innocent enough for Taylor to go along with the narrative again – Karlie was drunk and Karlie liked sharing thoughts and feelings, she knew this already. So, she just nodded and reached for the brunette’s hand, trying to not link their fingers together while doing so._

_“I like you too.”_

_“You don’t understand.” Suddenly there was a frown, “I – never mind. I’m thirsty.”_

_Taylor sighed but she led Karlie into the kitchen anyway, trying to focus on filling up a glass with water instead of the taller girl as she leant back against the kitchen island._

_“Here.”_

_“Thanks,” Karlie smiled, reaching for the glass, “You’re -”_

_She dropped the glass. Taylor jumped as it shattered and went all over the floor. Karlie had looked at her sheepishly, mumbling apologies as Taylor squatted and picked up the biggest shards of glass. Almost automatically, Karlie squatted as well, trying to reach for more pieces._

_“Please don’t.” Taylor pushed her hand away, “Last thing we need is a trip to ER when you slash your hand or something.”_

_“Okay.” Karlie mumbled, “Why don’t you just leave it till the morning?”_

_“Cats.” It came out matter-of-factly._

_“You know,” Karlie stood up again, “you could really do with a cleaner.”_

_“Don’t want one.”_

_“But they are so _handy_. Why would you not want one?”_

_“Privacy.” Taylor mumbled, “I already have little of it so I’d like to keep what’s mine, mine. I don’t want anyone to see my pictures. I don’t want anyone to hear me practicing songs. And I definitely -” She almost added ‘don’t want anyone seeing you here’ but decided against it, “Never mind, let’s try and get you into bed.”_

_The next ten minutes were spent trying to clean up the mess Karlie had made, trying to get Karlie drink some water from a plastic bottle instead of the tap, trying to get Karlie upstairs, trying to get her face wiped clean of make-up, trying to get her into a tee without blushing too hard. It had gone wrong when Taylor manoeuvred Karlie to the guest bedroom._

_“Come on,” she tried, “comfy bed, cushy pillows, you’ll love it.”_

_“This is not your bedroom.”_

_“It’s not,” Taylor tried to ignore the thumping in her chest, “it’s the guest bedroom.”_

_“I don’t want to sleep in there,” Karlie shook her head for extra emphasis, “where is your bedroom?”_

_She had led Karlie to the master bedroom, not sure what was going on. Karlie had got into bed without a single issue, loosely tugged at the covers as Taylor walked around and got in from the other side. The lights had gone off and Taylor had been aware of the other girl’s breathing, gently and the tiniest bit erratic. There had been lots of shifting but Karlie had eventually settled in the middle of the bed, one arm sprawled over Taylor’s side._

_It was almost morning -almost- when she woke up again and turned to her left, toward the middle of the bed. She had forgotten Karlie was there and held back a sigh when she noticed the girl’s silhouette after her eyes adjusted to the dark. Karlie stirred and Taylor shifted the tiniest bit closer, wondering whether she would notice._

_She did._

_Seconds later, Karlie started to turn around and Taylor panicked. She rapidly closed her eyes, ignoring the droning of her heart beat in her throat and hoping it was dark enough for Karlie not to see her flushed face. She became faintly aware of Karlie’s breathing, then suddenly felt the model’s fingers tracing her jaw._

_She could not help it; she opened her eyes. Karlie smiled and she smiled back and the taller girl had moved a bit closer, tangling their legs together as she continued running the tips of her fingers over Taylor’s skin gently. Taylor didn’t mind, didn’t move, didn’t do anything but watch as Karlie’s eyes followed the path her fingers roamed over. It was only when Karlie touched the corner of her mouth that she involuntarily twitched._

_Karlie was looking at her, with a strange look on her face. She opened her mouth, then paused for just a second._

_“You’re my best friend.” Karlie whispered quietly._

_And Taylor knew what it was. She could hear it in the silence that laid between them._

_-_

“I swear you space out so often nowadays."

“Sorry,” She says and she means it, “you do the patio and I’ll finish up in here and the kitchen.”

Joe does not need saying twice. As soon as he leaves, Taylor continues tearing down decorations and dumping leftover food into the trash. Her headache has faded, now reduced to nothing but a dull ache as she moves around and tries to get her living room to resemble its former glory once again. It takes her half an hour to work her way through the living room and another half an hour to do the entire kitchen. When she drags the fifth bag of trash out to the patio, she is starting to wonder whether Joe was on the right track with suggesting a cleaner.

“Joe,” she calls out to him as he’s leaning against the banister, typing away on his phone, “when are you flying home?”

He glances over for just a second. _Home._ Taylor doesn’t know why it sits weird with her when she says it. In between staying at her properties in the US and Joe’s place in London, 2018 has been frantic.

“Tonight, at like half three.” Joe puts his phone away, “But that means I have to leave here at like one because traffic is going to be a nightmare.”

_Traffic?_

“Are you not taking the jet?”

Joe looks at her puzzled.

“Why would I take the jet?”

“Because I,” she pauses, “have them? I have to pay for them anyway, it makes more sense for you to use them than to just keep them in the hanger.”

It sounds ludicrous and she knows it. _Private jets._ Even after all this time, she is painfully aware this is one of the biggest differences between Joe and herself. A few years into her career, it made perfect sense to get a private plane. Joe’s incredulous look proves that to other people, it does not make sense at all.

“I’ll cancel my flight then. What time do you think would be suitable for your pilot to fly?”

Silence.

“He sort of flies when you tell him to fly.” Taylor feels awkward, “Depending on air traffic and stuff but if we let him know now, I’m sure he can take you to the UK tomorrow at a more suitable time than half three.”

“Sweet.” Joe grins, “Speaking of going home… When are you coming back?”

It’s something that Joe has mentioned a few times in the past. She remembers him bringing it up early 2018, after they had been seeing each other for a few months. They were walking through Chelsea borough and she had mentioned something about architecture, to which Joe had pointed out she could probably buy a townhouse in central London. The idea was toyed with for a couple of months but in between her tour and resting at the seven properties in the US, nothing had come from it. Joe had let it slide and Taylor had been grateful that he did.

But this is a new year.

And new beginnings.

“Soon,” she smiles, “I have that Elle photoshoot coming up so I’ll be over in like a week or two. Hey,” she pauses, “maybe I should look into getting a place in London.”

“For real?”

“Yeah.” She swallows, “It makes sense, right?”

Clear blue eyes stare back at her. Joe seems to contemplate her question for a few seconds before nodding.

“Totally,” he confirms, “quick question though – do you mean _you_ are getting a place or _we_ are getting a place?”

It is a valid question. Taylor takes a seat on one of the chairs left behind on the patio and looks at Joe as he pulls himself up on the bannister and swings his legs, looking at her in anticipation. It’s not like there is any pressure, Joe would never pressure her, but it’s a loaded question nevertheless and Taylor is not sure what she wants at this point.

“I have never lived _with_ someone before.” She admits even though she knows she's lying.

-

_“What is this?”_

_“A key.”_

_“A key?” Green eyes looked at her mischievously. “What for?”_

_Taylor gestured around her, looking around the granite surface of her counter and the bay windows of the living room. Meredith and Olivia were snoozing on the wooden floor and the entire flat had a chilled-out vibe, much unlike what Taylor was feeling._

_“The flat,” she tried to make it sound casual, “just in case, you know.”_

_“Just in case of what exactly?” Karlie grinned, flipping the key over and over again in the palm of her hand, “You locking yourself out? Have to get security to drive over to the West Village and get my spare?”_

_“Fine, give it back.” Embarrassment overcame her, “This was a stupid idea anyway.”_

_Karlie ignored her open hand and took a step back, out of Taylor’s reach. Then took another step back and held the key high above her head, smiling as Taylor stepped into her personal space and stood on the tips of her toes, trying to reach for the key._

_“Just tell me why you want me to have a key.” Karlie said softly._

_“Your clothes are here.” Taylor mumbled, “Your sport shoes are here. You have your own bathrobe and your own toothbrush and I even got those protein snack things from Whole Foods because you keep craving them. It’s like you live here, Karlie. I just thought it’d be nice if you would have your own key, that’s all.”_

_“I love it.” The model grinned, “Thanks.”_

_“Promise me you don’t find it weird.”_

_“It’s the key to your condo, not the key to your heart, chill.” _

_For a second, Taylor felt as if someone had knocked all the air out of her lungs. She swallowed as Karlie kept looking at her for a few more seconds before taking her arm down and putting the spare key away in the pocket of her jeans._

_“I’ve got to go. Business lunch.” Karlie sighed, “Can I see you tonight?”_

_“Tonight?”_

_“Yeah,” the model smirked, “girls’ night, maybe? Little housewarming party?” She tried, “Just the two of us?” Karlie grinned as Taylor nodded, “Cool. See you later, roomie.”_

_She leant in and Taylor had closed her eyes just in time to not be unlucky._

_-_

“No pressure from me,” Joe holds his hands up, “If you rather buy a place on your own, that’s completely fine by me. I’ll be around the country filming anyway and I understand that you need your space and you know,” he looked at her knowingly, “_privacy_.”

“Thanks.”

She means it. She’s not sure how she has managed to find someone as understanding as Joe but it’s definitely good for her general mental wellbeing. The blonde jumps off the banister and walks over to her, reaching out his hands to pull her up from the chair. She lets him and he immediately picks her up, effortlessly.

“You’re my best pal, you know that?” He grins at her, “I like having fun with you.”

“Same.” She wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling the side of his head with her cheek as she wraps her legs around his waist, “Genuinely wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“Good thing you don’t have to find out any time soon then,” Joe remarks as he walks them back into the living room, “How about I go pack my gear and you chill for a bit and we’ll grab a bite to eat later on?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He puts her down and runs a hand through his hair, smiling at her. Joe gets ready to walk out of the room but at the last second, turns around to face her again and holds his fist out.

“New beginnings?” He asks, blue eyes meeting blue.

“New beginnings.” She grins, bumping her fist against his.

\---

The next day, she waves Joe goodbye as he climbs into one of the SUVs. She leans against the door frame until the car is completely out of sight before going back in and sitting down in what Joe has unceremoniously dubbed her _inspo room_. She reaches for her phone and opens the notes, glancing at names of London boroughs and streets Joe mentioned the night before, while they looked for places in London. She grabs one of the pens and puts it down the sheet of paper in front of her.

_I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon._

A few more lines follow.

_You know I love a London boy  
I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon_

She underlines London boy once then twice. Maybe it is time for a change.


	6. Chapter VI - I know places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly! This is taking off now, you guys. Thanks for the lovely comments (and the clicks, both here and on WattPad) - it really does mean the world to me, thank you very much.

_February 12, 2019._

Ever since she bought the Nashville estate for her parents, she’s been amazed at how much changes every time she stops by. The second she buzzes the doorbell; she spots hydrangeas on the far left and they definitely were not there before. Same goes for the daisies but she tries not to dwell on those for too long either.

“Hi darling.”

She barely lets Andrea open up the door before wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. Oftentimes it’s her way of gauging just how well Andrea is doing, she’s learnt how to listen to the way the older woman breathes, how she holds onto her and how she tries to smile even though she’s got no reason to. Today, Taylor decides, it looks like things might be relatively alright. She’ll make sure to check later on.

“Hi mom,” she smiles, “love the hydrangeas!”

“Your dad and I planted them last week, probably way too early but who knows,” Andrea reaches for her hand, “Come on through – you are staying for dinner later.”

“I’m not sure if I -”

“You are staying for dinner.” Her mother states, “Go tell your security boys, they can have some dinner too if they like.”

Taylor knows there’s no point arguing so turns on her heels to walk back out. The gravel shoots from beneath her feet as she walks down the driveway to the SUV, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. It’s absurd how easy she can forget what Nashville is like during wintertime, instead always imagining it hot and humid.

“We are all staying for dinner.” She tells the four men standing next to the car, “Probably gonna be around six so if you wanna head into the city or something,” she pauses, “I promise you I won’t be going anywhere.”

“If you’re _sure_,” Jake gauges, “we can leave for a couple of hours.”

“Very sure.” She nods, “You guys go have a few hours’ break, just be sure to be back by six because you know,” she grins, “manners.”

The men grin as they climb back into the car. _Seriously though, be back on time._

\---

“Please do _not_ – oh my God.” Taylor groans as her mother’s dog puts his front paws onto her leg and reaches up to lick the side of her face, “Down. Get down. _Get down_.”

“He is just trying to be nice.”

“And I appreciate that, mom, but he’s also drooling and I just – _get off_.”

“Kitty, get down.”

The Great Dane immediately gets down and turns back to Andrea, happily laying down at her feet as she chomps away on a ball toy.

“And this is exactly why I prefer cats.”

“You should be glad I don’t spoil her as much as you spoil your cats.” Andrea shakes her head, reaching for her tea, “How are things going with you aside from cats?”

“Good,” Taylor doesn’t skip a beat, “busy writing, bouncing some ideas back and forth with Jack and stuff. It’s going well.”

“That’s work covered then,” her mom smiles, “how about everything else? How are your friends?” Andrea looks at her as she nods, “Joe?” Another nod, “Any plans for Valentine’s this year?”

“We are not really Valentine’s Day people.” She lies, hoping she gets away with it. She puts her glass down and makes sure to stare at the dog, long enough to hopefully avoid her mother’s gaze.

“That’s news to me.”

“I have _always_ not been into Valentine’s Day. It’s commercial and it’s dumb and there is just so much societal pressure and I’ve decided 2019 is going to be the year I don’t take shit from anyone anymore, so that’s that.” She says defiantly, looking up to meet her mother’s disapproving look, “Sorry, that just slipped out. I won’t take no nonsense anymore.”

“If you say so, darling.”

It’s Andrea Swift’s way of moving onto another topic of conversation despite not believing a word she is saying. _Why am I such a shit liar?_

“Besides, Joe is in the UK right now.” She mumbles as an afterthought.

“Oh?” Andrea’s interest is back, “At Valentine’s?”

“He has got a film schedule,” Taylor frowns, “and I am _busy_ writing songs for this new album, mom. And there’s one for Joe on it so I guess that’s my mandatory token of love for Valentine’s Day then.”

“I’m glad,” Andrea grins, “I like Joe. He is polite and he’s nice and he’s got that delightful little accent of his, I’m just disappointed we don’t get to see him more often.”

“He’s very busy.” Taylor counters again, “Plus I have _never_ brought boyfriends back to Nashville so I’m not sure what’s brought on this new expectation.”

“True,” The older woman agrees, “you’ve brought Karlie back though.”

“Yeah well, that was different.”

“Because you were not dating Karlie.” Andrea reaches for her drink again, “Right?”

\---

_“Are you _sure_ your parents won’t find it strange that you just show up here with me?”_

_“Listen,” She smiled, turning to her right, “they invited me for dinner and I said I was showing you around the city as a girls’ trip and mom basically begged me to bring you for dinner,” she let go of the steering wheel and leant over, “they like you, Karlie.”_

_“Good, that’s good,” The taller girl mumbled, looking at Taylor’s lips, “that makes this easier, I think.”_

_“You,” Taylor whispered, “have absolutely nothing to worry about.” She closed the distance between them and brushed her lips against the younger girl’s cheek, “Trust me.”_

_Dinner had been grand, and Taylor watched on as Scott and Karlie bonded over southern food and cooking techniques. She had carefully sipped from the vintage wine her dad had got out of the cellar (‘to celebrate you two being here’), slowly and delicately because despite the fact she had not had a lot at all, she felt drunk. Karlie’s hand on her thigh may have had something to do with that._

_“So, Karlie, any Valentine’s plans?”_

_Karlie looked at Scott in amusement and sipped from her wine mischievously as she grinned._

_“Nothing particular, no, _however -_” she paused, “I’m thinking of doing something the night before,” she added, glancing at Taylor, “just a girls’ night, like a Galentine’s date instead.”_

_“Galentine’s!” Scott echoed, “Hilarious!”_

_Taylor had giggled along with Karlie and her dad and had avoided her mother’s look once she noticed Andrea was observing her and Karlie. Two hours and two more bottles of wine later, Scott had decided there was no way he’d let the girls drive to the hotel they were staying at and they had wound up in Taylor’s old room, in Taylor’s old bed, wearing tees Taylor had never got rid of and Andrea couldn’t bring herself to._

_“So, what is this Galentine’s then?” Taylor mumbled, toying with Karlie’s pendant necklace, “Tell me about it.”_

_“It’s like Valentine’s but way better,” Karlie whispered back, “basically you skip all the commercial nonsense and you just take a girl you like on, well, a date.”_

_“Oh.” Taylor paused, “You sound like an expert.”_

_“I am very much an expert, I came up with this concept like two hours ago so if you have any questions, please do ask.” Green eyes looked at her mischievously._

_“Tell me more about this date.”_

_“Okay so _hypothetically_, right,” Karlie inched closer, reaching out for Taylor’s hand and untangling it from the necklace, “I’d be asking this girl out and take her to something I would know she really liked, for example,” Karlie squinted, “a sports ga -” she quickly paused when Taylor scrunched up her nose, “the mov -” again she stopped as Taylor pulled a face, “dinner at that rooftop bar that has the swing and the pergola and I’d rent the entire thing because that would be quite romantic, and they’d let me because I would promise them they could keep my entire set-up for actual Valentine’s the night after? So basically, I’d be doing them a solid while also impressing this girl. I know places, I know people, it works.”_

_“Are you looking to impress then?”_

_“Naturally,” Karlie cleared her throat slightly, “How else am I gonna get kissed?”_

_“Ulterior motives.” Taylor grinned._

_“You bet.”_

_“So,” Taylor ignored the uncomfortable feeling of her heartbeat in her throat, “who were you thinking of asking on this hypothetical date?”_

_Blue eyes met green ones and for the first time in a long while, Karlie did not look like she was messing around._

_“You.”_

_It took less than a fraction of a second for her to start imagining the pergola and the swing and the romance and being kissed by Karlie. It took even less time for her eyes to flicker to Karlie’s lips, just for a split second, but Karlie had already noticed._

_“Say yes,” Karlie whispered, entwining her fingers with Taylor’s, “Go on a date with me.”_

_“Yes.” She swallowed, “Okay. That’ll be a first.”_

_“Okay.” The taller girl echoed, smiling, “Weird question but um,” She pursed her lips together, “how many people did you kiss in this room?”_

_Taylor thought back of Drew. And Jacob. And a few boys that had come around to pick her up under her parents’ watchful gaze and had somehow managed to be in her bedroom unsupervised, and had tried to kiss her before either Scott or Andrea would come in._

_“None,” she paused, “why?”_

_“I want to be the first for many things.” Karlie smiled, “And I need to practice for this Galentine’s date, don’t I.”_

_For the first time in her life, she’d stared at her bedroom ceiling with soft lips brushing against her jaw before they found the corner of her mouth and she turned to face Karlie again, allowing the younger girl to reduce her to a content mess of red lips and rosy cheeks._

_\---_

“I never dated Karlie.”

She knows it sounds more defensive than she means it to be and in trying to convince her mother, Andrea knows exactly to not push it. They are only seconds and perhaps one question away from Taylor freaking out. Instead, the older woman just smiles at Taylor and pats her knee gently.

“Well, I hope you do something fun anyway,” Andrea says gently, “relax a bit.”

“I’ll try.”

“Right,” the other woman gets up, “do you wanna help me do the vegetables or would you rather take Kitty out for a walk?”

“Definitely the veg.” Taylor sighs, “That dog does _not_ listen to me at all.”

Soon enough they fall back into pleasant small talk about writing lyrics and seeing Selena and her new record deal. It feels good because it feels familiar, it’s subjects she can talk about without having to lie or pretend and it just feels _easy_. Six rolls around sooner than she thinks, and like clockwork, her security detail gets there in time and set out the table while Scott goes down the cellar to get some more beers and wine for the extra guests.

It’s homey and nice and she appreciates the effort her parents go through and the fact her security is nice and are more like extended family than employees. She’s grateful, so grateful, and just overall happy Andrea does not insist on revisiting Valentine Day’s plans again. Or Karlie.

\---

When the SUV pulls up in the underground parking of the Nashville condo and Jake helps her out of the car, she feels somewhat elated. Overall she’s had a lovely day and it is only right she would ring Joe, tell him about a nice afternoon with her mother and a lovely dinner and maybe try and see whether he has a few hours to spare on Valentine’s Day – surely she can take a jet to London and spend some time with him before going back into the studio again.

She pulls her phone out and gets ready to FaceTime him before realising it’s almost three o’ clock in the morning in the UK and Joe is most likely (most definitely) asleep. It’s only three hours until Galentine’s and twenty-five hours until Valentine’s and the realisation that she is not partaking in either of them is bringing down her mood.

She bids the security guys goodnight and heads into her bedroom, going through the same old routine of taking her lenses out, wiping her make up off and changing into some sort of sleepwear before brushing her teeth and getting into bed. With Joe asleep and aware that most of her friends will be busy at the moment, she idly opens up Instagram and goes through some stories.

She watches Selena’s, then Cara’s, then Jack’s. A long one from Ed and a rallying one from Michelle Obama and then decides to check on Ashley Graham’s. There are a few shots of Ashley walking around the city and talking about needing to get some shopping done, before there’s a picture of a tonne of food and snacks and drinks. And a hashtag.

_#GalentinesDay_

She holds her thumb down and looks, unsure what she is looking for but very sure about the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Clicking through the story, she hears Ashley talk about preparing for Galentine’s and mentioning models. The familiar names pass the revue, there’s Lily and Cara and Martha and then she hears Ashley say it loud and clear.

“- and Karlie Kloss! Klossy and I thought this would be a _great_ new thing to do so it would just be a couple of models having fun!”

She’s not sure what cringes her out more, the nickname or the fact Ashley seems to think this is an idea Karlie came up with just now instead of many moons ago, during dinner at the Swifts.

The phone is quickly discarded. Instead, Taylor decides to go through the channels until she finds a rerun of Law and Order. She gets through two episodes before her eyelids become heavy and her arm goes numb from lying on it funny. She waits for the pins and needles to stop before grabbing her phone. _00:23._

She turns off the TV. Puts the phone down on the nightstand. Turns her head to the other side of the room and curls up, hoping that sleep will come over her sooner rather than later. She needs it, especially after the memories and the chat with her mum. Just a few hours of sleep and then Joe will be awake and she can plan flying out to him and they can go have dinner for Valentine’s Day and maybe she’ll manage to say something to her mother about it that might mean Andrea is off her back about the entire situation for a couple of weeks. It’s a solid plan and she quite smugly thinks to herself nothing can throw a spanner in the works.

Then there’s a buzz.

_Joe!_ It has to be Joe. Nobody else would be awake at this time of night, not on a weekday, definitely not in this time zone or New York’s, and there is definitely nobody she knows in Los Angeles right now so that’s not an option either.

_‘Happy Galentine’s day xxx’_

She feels cursed. She stares at the words for a few seconds before her eyes end on the KK in the small circle above the text. She feels grateful for deleting the picture from Karlie in Big Sur. She feels the opposite of grateful for Karlie having a thing for remembering things and dates and texting her to make sure that she cannot forget it either. There used to be a time where the fourteenth day of February was easy enough for her to get through, for example when she dated Taylor and he was more than happy enough to drive her Audi R8 for a few hours while they both scream-sang along to crappy music before stopping at an In-N-Out. Or when she dated Harry and didn’t have to worry about Valentine’s Day because they didn’t even make it into the new year. Or Jake, who –

“Fuck.” She mumbles to herself.

There’s something ironic about having been in a movie called Valentine’s Day and now feel all anxious about the prospect and more importantly, the day preceding it. Especially considering the 13th had begun less than half an hour ago and Karlie Kloss was already _on it_, making sure she was aware of the exact date and its meaning.

_‘Thanks, have fun with Ashley and your model pals! xx’_

She sends it, waiting for the three bubbles to appear. There’s nothing. Judging that Karlie may be busy getting ready for bed, or may be out at the moment, or may be around Josh, she decides to not follow up and instead cranks up the volume button in case Karlie texts her after her eyelids have become too heavy for her to deal with. _Just in case._

There is some tossing and then some turning. There is staring at the ceiling and trying to listen to the sound of Jake and Sam walking around the house. There’s a police siren going off in the distance and she likes to think that is the reason why she can’t sleep. It stops eventually but she remains wide awake, continuing to turn around in a bed that feels oddly empty all of a sudden.

She’s not sure how long it takes but eventually, she’s tired enough to doze off. Tired enough to close her eyes and gently fall into a slumber. Tired enough to almost miss the fact her phone is ringing.

When she manages to grab it and she opens her eyes, the first thing she notices is how the room is oddly bright. The second thing she notices when she looks at the screen of her phone, is that it’s now 09:03. The final thing she notices is that the caller ID says Joe. She faintly hears him say something down the phone, but she ignores it, staring at the message app instead.

There’s nothing.


	7. Chapter VII - Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to all! This is the last update for 2019 - 2020 will bring actual real-time Kaylor interaction. Thanks for the comments & votes so far, you guys are the best. Enjoy =)

**Chapter VII**

_March 1, 2019_

Her heels echo through the hallway of the Elle offices as she makes her way to the boardroom. There are excited whispers and quick glances as she walks past; she’s used to it now, but it still feels surreal. The assistant walking with her is going on about marketing schemes and social reach and Tree, walking behind, is making notes and asking questions. Taylor doesn’t say much, her eyes are focussed on the editor standing near the boardroom door, holding it open for her.

“Hi, come on in.”

There are perhaps half a dozen people sitting around the large table, pictures spread all across. Taylor walks to the far end of the table where two chairs are kept empty, presumably for her and Tree.

“Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Taylor.” She introduces herself, shaking hands and flashing smiles, “Hello!”

Once they all sit down, there’s a brief presentation from the editor in chief and then one of the assistants brings Taylor a magazine.

“And this will be the March cover, we went with the yellow Gucci dress, the photographer thought this was the best picture.”

Taylor looks at her own face, her attention immediately drawn to the colourful makeup she donned the month before and the bright yellow dress she wore and regretted not asking to keep it at the end of the shoot. Tree seems pleased, Taylor hears her compliment first and then comes the barrage of questions. Most of it passes her by as she looks through the pictures, reads bits of the article and admires the yellow dress and her make up on the front cover.

The rest of the meeting takes less than an hour and when she walks out, a copy of the brand-new edition is pushed into her hands with a smile. They say their goodbyes and as soon as they are alone in the hallway, Tree grabs her elbow.

“This is going to be a good one,” the redhead grins, “the UK is a massive market with great expansion potential, we should try and get outside the London bubble for the new tour, maybe do some extra dates up north. Your popularity keeps increasing over there, it’s like Asia but on a smaller scale,” Tree grabs her phone, “we should really look into that more.”

For a second, Taylor wants to bring up the tour idea and the fact she’d rather _not_ stick to a set schedule with her mother not being in the best of health, but Tree is already on the phone to god knows who, discussing god knows what, and Taylor thinks she can let it rest for the time being and instead focus on the publishing of this very magazine. The 30 things before turning 30 interview was stellar and everyone in the boardroom seemed to agree it was going to get traction and shake things up a bit. She hopes it does.

\---

Taylor does lunch with Tree, holds a conference call with Jack and Laura and then gets driven back to Tribeca. There are a couple of texts from Joe, mentioning nothing about the Elle magazine whatsoever. _When were they even going to publish it in the UK?_ When she gets out of the car and walks into the building, there’s a flash from a paparazzo somewhere on her left. She tries her best not to glare and goes up to the elevator – the quicker she’s by herself, the better.

“Hi guys,” she greets the security men across the hall, “could you please not let anyone up for the next two hours or so?” The two men nod, “Bit of a headache.”

As soon as the door slams shut behind her, she kicks her shoes off and lets out a sigh she’s been holding for hours. Her phone rings and for a second, Taylor contemplates not picking up. If it’s Tree _again_, she is sure it can wait for a few hours. If it’s not, she can’t imagine who else she should answer straight away, unless it’s one of her parents. Curiosity takes over and she reaches for her phone in her bag. _Joe._ Suppressing another sigh, she slides her thumb across the screen and starts walking into the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“_Hi,_” Joe sounds chirpy as ever, “_How did your boardroom thingy go? All good?_” He asks and she hums affirmatively, “_Great, great – hey, do you know an _exact_ date for your family’s birthdays? I know it’s somewhere mid-March but I have to clear my schedule and it’d be fun to have a couple of extra days with you._”

For a second, she blanks. Then her brain starts shouting back at her. Dad’s birthday. Austin’s birthday. Her mother asking she’d come to Nashville to celebrate. Her mother asking to bring Joe to Nashville with her. It all comes flooding back to her and she suppresses yet another sigh, not entirely pleased that the planning is catching up with her.

“I’m not _entirely_ sure,” she drawls, “possibly the twelfth but I’d have to check with Tree.”

“_It’s just that I'd need to book flights, too._”

“I’ll send a jet, it’s fine.” She mumbles, reaching out for Meredith who is lounging on one of the sofas, “Let’s just say the twelfth, I’ll let mom know.”

“_Great, okay,_” Joe pauses, “_You sure you’re alright?_”

“Fine, just a bit tired after the meeting, need to wind down for a bit.”

“_Get some kip. I’ll text you later, just wanted to hear how it went, I’m between takes._”

“I’ll speak to you later,” she says, running her fingers through Meredith’s thick fur, “Bye.”

As soon as the call ends, she allows herself to sink into the sofa next to the cat. The flat is quiet and after less than a minute, she reaches out for her phone and starts to browse through Instagram, scrolling through some tags and news stories mindlessly until she comes across a Paris hashtag.

#OffWhite

There are pictures of models she vaguely recognises. There are pictures of designers and celebrities she definitely recognises. There are quite a few pictures of Karlie. She shuts her eyes for a few seconds but can’t help but click on the Karlie Kloss hashtag. Suddenly, her screen is nothing but Karlie in various outfits, each picture making her realise more and more how attractive she thinks Karlie really is. _As if I needed reminding._ She refreshes and there’s another picture on the grid, this time only a couple of seconds old.

Bella and Gigi Hadid look stunning in a joint shot but it’s Karlie that draws all the attention wearing an enormous flowy yellow dress. _For the love of God._ There are several angles of Karlie’s catwalk and numerous shots of her and the Hadid sisters together and Taylor can’t help but notice how _good_ Karlie looks in yellow.

\---

_“Yellow is the hardest colour.”_

_Karlie’s voice cuts through the peace and quiet. Taylor doesn’t know how long they’ve been at the beach but somewhere in between laying on a towel with Karlie and basking in the sunlight and hearing nothing but the waves lapping at the sand a couple of metres away, she thinks she lost track of time._

_“Hmmm?”_

_She lazily turns her head to face the model, who’s reading one of the fashion magazines she brought with her. With Karlie on her front reading and Taylor laying on her back, she’s seeing the younger girl from an angle she doesn’t quite know yet and for a second, she has no idea what else to say. Then Karlie turns to smile at her, and Taylor knows she’s in trouble._

_“Yellow,” Karlie repeats, “from all the colours I have to wear, I struggle the most with yellow.”_

_“I don’t think I have ever seen you in yellow.”_

_“You would be correct,” Karlie pushes at her shoulder gently, “I don’t like wearing it. Green eyes, blonde hair… It’s tragic.”_

_“I’m sure you look _beautiful_ in yellow, Karlie.” Taylor mumbles, looking up at the azure sky once again, “I can’t imagine you looking anything but.” She pauses, “In any colour.”_

_“You know,” Karlie doesn’t acknowledge the compliment, “I reckon _you_ would look really nice in yellow.”_

_“I brought a yellow dress with me so with a bit of luck, you’ll get to see it one of these days.” Taylor tries to hide her smile, “I had no idea I picked the _hardest _colour, what a tragedy.”_

_“Hmm,” Karlie turns on her side and Taylor feels the younger girl’s gaze fixed on the side of her face, “it would make sense. That red lip, those blue eyes, you’re really fair, you’d look lovely in yellow.” There’s a pause, “Okay, that’s it.” She states firmly, getting up, “Let’s go.”_

_“What?” Taylor frowns, taking her sunglasses off to glare at Karlie as she starts packing up her magazines, “Hold on, where are we going?”_

_“Back to the villa,” Karlie says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I wanna see you in that yellow dress.”_

_“Oh, come _on_,” Taylor grunts, “Kar, can’t that wait till tonight? I’m trying to tan here.”_

_“I’m saving you from getting skin cancer and weird melanomas.” Karlie grins, “You are welcome. Besides, I have plans for us tonight and they do not involve yellow dresses.”_

_Taylor freezes._

_“What plans?”_

_“You’ll see!” Karlie grins, “Come _on_ now, slowpoke.”_

_Taylor gets up with a sigh, brushing some sand off her legs while Karlie snatches the towel from under her feet and throws it over her arm before heading back to the villa._

_Within five minutes, Taylor is standing in their interim bedroom, going through her bag and suitcase looking for the yellow dress. Karlie’s on the bed, laying on her front and watching Taylor’s every move. A wide grin appears on her face when the singer finally pulls out a yellow dress in triumph._

_“Aha!” Taylor smirks, “Found it.”_

_“Cool, put it on.”_

_“Right, give me a minute, I’ll just go to the bathroom to -”_

_“Change here! I quite literally just saw you in a swimsuit,” Karlie grins, “I’ll close my eyes if you want me to – see? Closed.”_

_Taylor shakes her head and shimmies out of the bandeau she’s been wearing while Karlie lies flat on her back, covering her eyes with her arm and humming something underneath her breath. A few seconds later, Taylor’s put the dress on, adjusted it a bit where needed and glances at the mirror in the corner._

_“Right, zip me up then.” She grins as Karlie almost leaps up from the bed._

_“See, I was _right_,” Karlie says smugly as she walks over, “absolutely gorgeous. It doesn’t clash with your hair, see? And this is just a _really_ nice dress on you as well, accentuates your, well, you know.”_

_Taylor holds her hair up as Karlie tugs at the zipper gently, even taking the time to fumble with the tiny button at the very top. She wonders if the pounding of heartbeat shows in the vein in her neck and if so, whether Karlie’s noticed it. She can only hope Karlie’s focussed on the actual dress and nothing else._

_“Can I take it off now?”_

_“Why would you?” Karlie murmurs, looking at their reflection in the mirror, “You could be a model, you know. If this singing thing ever goes south…”_

_Taylor catches Karlie’s eye in the mirror. _I only bought it so you could take it off._ She blushes at her own thought and looks back at the dress, trying to ignore the fact Karlie’s hands are on her waist, trying to accentuate her small waist even more._

_“I’ll keep it in mind.” Taylor responds drily, “Thanks.”_

_“Thank _you_,” Karlie grins, “Right, hold on."_

_Taking the dress off seems harder to do than helping Taylor put it on. Taylor waits as Karlie fumbles with the button, then _keeps_ fumbling with the button. The tip of her tongue pokes from between her teeth and Taylor forces herself to look away. Karlie’s almost pressed up against her back as she tries to unbutton it and finally, _finally_ the button gives way. Karlie breaks out in a wide grin and unzips the zip, slightly further than necessary._

_And then her lips brush against Taylor’s shoulder, just ghosting against the skin. It’s only a fraction of a second but it feels like someone has set Taylor on fire. Karlie doesn’t seem to make much of it. She pulls back and walks back over to the bed, grabbing her magazines and tossing them onto the nightstand. Then she grabs Taylor’s polaroid camera from the side table and turns it on before aiming it at the singer._

_“Please don’t,” Taylor groans, “Karlie, I’m already half out of it, leave it -”_

_“Nobody’s gonna see. Just stand up again, you can’t even tell it’s undone at the back. Just – perfect!”_

_There’s a flash and almost immediately, the polaroid comes out with a loud whirl. Karlie grabs it and puts it onto the bed, turning away so Taylor can shimmy out of the dress and put on something else._

_“So,” Taylor clears her throat, “those plans for tonight – am I dressing for an occasion? Are we going somewhere specific? I’ll need _some_ sort of clue if I want to show up and not make a complete ass of myself.”_

_“You couldn’t if you tried.” Karlie says gently, “I was thinking of taking you for a picnic on the beach, just you and me. Thought it’d be cute.”_

_Taylor doesn’t know whether it’s Karlie’s youthful naivety or the fact Karlie just doesn’t seem to _care _much about what other people might think, but a beach picnic definitely sounds like something normal friends wouldn’t really do at night, never mind referring to it as _cute_. So, she just hums in approval and puts on some jeans and a white tee._

_“Will this be okay then?”_

_“You could wear nothing at all, and it’d be perfect.” Karlie shrugs, “Has anyone ever told you that you think way too much?”_

_Taylor wants to object but the first part of Karlie’s sentence has already shoved her into a spiral of overthinking so instead she just rolls her eyes and folds the dress before tucking it away again. When they leave the room, Taylor looks back at the bed but it’s empty. The polaroid is nowhere to be found._

_It’s not until she’s back in New York that she realises she’s never seen it._

_\---_

Her daydream is interrupted when her phone starts buzzing, and she recognises the haptics right away. She grabs her phone faster than usual because Karlie doesn’t ever _just_ text her anymore. The phone unlocks as soon as she looks at it and the message pops up, showing her a picture of Karlie in her yellow dress, holding a copy of the Elle magazine.

_‘One of the fashion guys here already been given one of these so I grabbed it. You still look great in yellow xx’_

Of course Karlie would manage to see the cover before anyone else did, including her own family and Joe. Taylor stares at the picture for a while; she can see one of the Hadids is in the background and she’s assuming the other sister took Karlie’s picture. Her phone vibrates briefly and another text comes in at the top.

_‘Do you remember that Big Sur picnic after you showed me that yellow dress? Quite literally one of my favourite outfits you ever wore. Remember we took that polaroid and then I sort of kept it? I still have it somewhere xx’_

It comes as no surprise to Taylor. She tries to think of something to say, perhaps something casual or even sassy but nothing comes to mind at all. Olivia enters the room and jumps onto her lap and she spends a solid few minutes scratching behind the cat’s ears, just happily not thinking about Karlie at all. When she turns her attention to her phone again, she can see the three little dots appearing, disappearing, appearing again. It’s been more than ten minutes since Karlie texted and she knows the model is very much aware Taylor used to text her back right away.

“I’m in trouble, you know.” She says softly to Olivia as she sprawls across her lap, “Bet you anything she’ll send me quite a litany.”

Meredith reacts promptly by jumping off the sofa and exiting the room.

“And she liked Karlie more than she ever liked me,” Taylor sighs, “you stay here, you hear me, I’m going to need all the support I can get.”

She leaves her phone on the coffee table and gets up before following Meredith into the kitchen. Giving the eldest cat some food often is the only thing she can do to try and please her and today is no exception. She’s rewarded with a subtle brush of tail against her leg and she fills up Olivia’s bowl automatically, calling out a half-hearted ‘Dibbles’ before stepping over Meredith and opening up her fridge. There’s half a bottle of white Chardonnay left.

“That’ll do.” She mumbles to no one in particular.

She passes Olivia as she goes back to the living room, stepping aside as the white cat scurries past her. The screen of her phone is still black but as soon as she sits down again, her haptics go off and the screen lights up in all its glory. _Definitely Karlie._ She takes a swig of the wine -who bothers with glasses anyway- and reaches for her phone, dreading the inevitable.

_‘Not sure what happened to ‘trying to be friends’ but this is definitely not it. I’ve got no idea what goes on in your head but at least I’m trying to make an effort? I cannot keep doing this if you refuse to even acknowledge me, Taylor. It’s like I am talking to a brick wall, all the time. I miss you. Your call.’_

Taylor sighs and throws the phone down next to her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a mini sabbatical but I'm back. More importantly, the fic is back. Even more importantly, for those that are wondering when Karlie is going to be in the same room as Taylor in real-time: chapter XI. I like to think it's going to be worth it but feel free to weigh in. Cheers!

_March 15, 2019_

The first thing she notices when she exits the SUV is how her mother’s hydrangeas have started blooming. The entire patch next to the front door is full of shades of purple and blue and she knows her mom is proudest of the blue ones; she vaguely remembers driving to a supermarket with her years ago to pick up something to enhance the soil so she _could_ have blue hydrangeas.

“Lush place,” Joe says behind her as he gets out of the car as well, “lads, where are the presents?”

One of the security men opens up the boot of the car and starts handing over neatly wrapped gifts to Joe, while another brings over two smaller ones to Taylor. She says a soft thank you before turning back to the house. Joe walks a few steps ahead of her and turns around, looking at her quizzically.

“You coming, love?”

She hums affirmatively and falls in place next to him, walking down the small pebbled path that leads to the front door. There’s a key underneath the mat and she’s sure she has one in her handbag as well but there’s always something that keeps her from using her own key when she visits her parents. She can hear one of them come down the stairs to open the door, even over Joe’s gentle whistling.

“Loving those daisies.” He points out casually.

Taylor remains silent. As soon as the door opens and she’s met with her dad, she breaks out in a grin and launches forward, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Happy birthday!” She quips, hugging him extra tight.

“Ah thanks honey,” Scott grins, “come on in. Hi Joe!”

She leaves Joe to offload presents and exchange pleasantries with her dad as she ventures deeper into the house, curious why Andrea didn’t beat Scott to the door as she usually does. She ends up finding her in the kitchen, putting some olives into a small bowl.

“Hey mom,” she greets, wrapping one arm around Andrea’s shoulder lightly, “how are you?”

“Alive.” Andrea responds drily, “Glad to see you.”

Almost immediately, Taylor feels guilty. In between travelling and preparing promotions and doing shoots and finishing up songs, she hasn’t been back in Nashville as much as she’d like to. The last visit only dates back a month ago, but she’s got a feeling her parents might think today was _just_ a courtesy visit because of Scott and Austin’s birthdays.

“Is Austin here yet?”

“He’s on his way, his flight got in half an hour ago so he should be here soon.”

“How is he getting here?” Taylor asks, grabbing a slice of prosciutto off the plate without her mother spotting it, “I can send a car if that’s easier.”

“You know, that might not be a bad idea. You know what your brother is like.”

She quickly presses a kiss on her mother’s cheek and grabs her phone before heading out onto the patio, dialling Austin’s number.

\---

Turns out Austin did not need picking up as he had already pre-planned hiring a car from Hertz at the airport, causing everyone else to poke fun at him for _finally_ being a responsible adult. Taylor watches on in amusement as both Austin and her dad unwrap their presents after dinner, Scott more than delighted with his own vineyard and Austin over the moon with a snowboarding trip.

“I’m going to check on the guys really quick,” Taylor says, scooting her chair back, “I’ll be right back.”

“There’s some leftover pie in the kitchen if they are hungry.” Andrea yells after her, “Please take them some because the fridge is full enough as it is.”

Instead of portioning out four separate portions, she decides to grab a tray and put the pie on it together with four plates, some forks and a cutting knife. The foursome of her security detail is in the guesthouse, talking amongst themselves but immediately shutting up as soon as she walks in.

“Just coming to check up on you guys, are you all good? Mom’s made a pie that could feed a small army so if you fancy any – you know, here it is.”

She stays for a few more minutes, talking to them about their families and Andrea’s pie, then heads back to the main house. As soon as she goes through the patio doors, she can hear Austin and Joe laugh and she’s immediately reminded how _nice_ it is for her family to get along with someone she likes. It’s not happened often, in fact, it probably only happened once or twice before.

“I will say,” she hears her mother say softly right as she walks through the door of the dining room, “I’m glad to see you, Taylor never seems to bring you when she visits.”

Taylor freezes for a second before walking around the table.

“You may have noticed I don’t really tend to bring _anyone_ back here, mother. Nashville is Nashville, I’m here because I want to see you guys, I’ve never brought any of my boyfriends back, don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“Well,” Joe smiles at her as she takes her seat next to him, “I’m sure you’ll see a whole lot more of me during this new album’s tour. I haven’t seen the schedule yet but I’m going to be there at every single one my own schedule allows. You guys are going to a few as well, right? We’ll see each other there, we’ll go for some meals and stuff.” He looks around the table.

There’s a silence that lingers for a few seconds before Scott clears his throat.

“We will go to some, of course,” Scott glances at his wife, “but we should probably be a bit cautious with Andrea’s health at the moment, perhaps not…” there’s a short pause, “be there as _often_ as we usually are.”

_This is new._ Taylor frowns, looking at her mother as she feels the panic rise.

“Why? Is something wrong? Did the doctors say anything?”

“It’s not like that,” Andrea shoots her a reassuring smile across the table, “it’s just that I’m a bit tired nowadays, I tend to need more rest. I’m not sure following you for fifty or so different concerts is going to be possible this time around.”

“Yeah, no, obviously.” Taylor mumbles, “Okay, well, I’ll check with Tree and the guys and I’ll let you know what the schedule is as soon as I know it. I’m coming back here next month though, we are doing something promotional with a mural somewhere in town.”

“Sounds quaint.” Joe grabs her hand on the table, “You never said – what’s this mural thing? When is this? I can see whether I can come with you if you like.”

“April 25th,” Taylor tries to ignore her parents looking at each other as Joe’s fingers play with hers, and she can almost _feel_ Austin smirk, “It’s right down 11th Avenue.”

“I’m not sure whether I’m _free_ the 25th,” Joe sighs, “but I’ll double check.”

“11th Avenue.” Austin taps his finger on his chin dramatically, “That’s Monroe Park, right?”

“Yeah.” Taylor frowns, “You _know_ that is Monroe Park, Austin, why?”

“No reason, no reason at all,” The brown-haired man shrugs, “or maybe one _tiny _reason, I just think it’s a funny location to pick to promote your new stuff, given what happened last time you were near that park.”

_I’m going to kill you._

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Taylor says sweetly although she’s glaring at him already, knowing where this conversation is headed, “_Anyway -_”

“I’m talking about that barbecue place,” Austin continues, “you know the one, Minnie… Minnie’s old BBQ? Dad, help me out here.”

“Mary’s old-fashioned barbecue.” Scott nods, taking a sip of his drink, “Decent place, they do _really _nice pork chops. Last time we went, I had some brisket and -”

“Yes, thanks dad,” Austin interrupts, “The BBQ place on 11th and Jefferson’s, that place.”

_I’m going to kill you and feed you to the cats._

“Does not ring a bell,” Taylor responds coolly, “does anyone else want more wine?”

“How can you have forgotten about this?” Austin exclaims, before turning to Joe, “Basically -this is a few years ago but still- I think it was around Thanksgiving 2015?”

“I was in New Zealand on Thanksgiving 2015,” Taylor snaps, “drop it.”

“Then it was _around_ Thanksgiving 2014, Taff, who cares,” Austin frowns, “Either way – we were going to do Thanksgiving here and I had a girlfriend at the time, a real cool chick, and basically Taylor was so _pissed_ she didn’t have a boyfriend to bring back, this was like, between Harry and Calvin, I think? Anyway, she ended up bringing back Karlie.”

“Karlie?” Joe smiles.

“Karlie Kloss, the model.” Austin clarifies for no reason whatsoever, “So we do our Thanksgiving a few days earlier than usual because _Karlie_ does have commitments on actual Thanksgiving Day, and Taff had to sing somewhere, so we all pretty much adapted to our diva here. So basically, Taylor decides to redo the entire guest house prior to Karlie getting here and _refuses_ to go out for dinner with me and Sophie at the time, saying she was going to show Karlie around town,” he stops to take a sip of his drink, “and they end up -you guess it-, at Mallory’s barbecue.”

“Mary’s.” Scott interjects.

“Mary’s,” Austin repeats monotonously, “only Karlie, at this point, is a vegan. Like, _hardcore_ vegan. They realise that this BBQ joint is not going to have any vegan food so they try and find a different place but this is _Nashville_ – they don’t really do vegan stuff here now, never mind back in 2014. So Taylor decides they should go back home and she basically _raids_ mom’s fridge, takes it back to the guest house and tries to make some vegan bake tray or whatever.

_I’m going to kill him, feed him to the cats and tell mom and dad he emigrated to the Maldives to join a cult and they’ll never hear from him again. I’m going to -_

“I’m not entirely sure whether Joe wants to hear this story, honey.” Andrea suddenly intervenes, looking at Austin before glancing at Taylor really quickly, “It’s been _years_ and it’s not that interesting,” she adds, turning to Joe, “Taylor almost burnt down the guest house. That’s the punch line. She tried to do something nice for her friend and started a fire in the guest house’s kitchen. No big deal. Who wants coffee?”

“_And_ because of what she’d raided from the fridge, you couldn’t really do a vegan meal for Karlie the next day,” Austin adds, “and then when Karlie left the next day, Taylor insisted we go to that damn barbecue place and she tipped them like a grand for leaving the first time around without ordering food. They still go on about it, it’s hilarious.”

“Yes, hysterical.” Taylor says drily, “Excuse me.”

When Andrea reaches for her arm as she walks past, Taylor manages to mumble ‘bathroom’ in passing before she walks out of the room. She walks upstairs, trying to get as much distance between herself and Austin, well, between herself and all of them. It’s only when she makes it to the bathroom and glances out of the window, she notices the guesthouse’s lights are all on, undoubtedly the four security guards are still enjoying the pie.

\---

_“I’m sorry about this,” Taylor glances at the taller girl walking beside her, “I really did think there would at least be _one_ place open that would do vegan food.”_

_“You also thought a place that has the word BBQ in its name would serve vegan food.” Karlie grins, “It’s alright, I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”_

_“I’m not letting you _not_ eat, Karlie.” Taylor says as they walk past Monroe Park, two of her close team security guards walking ahead of them and two several metres behind. “Apart from this food disaster, how are you liking Nashville?”_

_“Nashville or your family?”_

_“Both?” Taylor feels her heart pound in her chest, “I’m just… I really wanted this to go well.”_

_“I think it’s going great,” Karlie says happily, reaching out for Taylor’s hand, “Nashville’s dope, your dad is _hilarious_, your mum is so sweet. I even think Austin is great although his taste in sports teams suck. I’m having a lovely time.”_

_“Would you mind not -” Taylor nods at Karlie’s hand, hovering between them, “I just – there might be paparazzi around, and I don’t want anyone to see, you know.”_

_“I’m pretty sure they are all at home with their families, prepping for actual Thanksgiving.” Karlie replies, “But sure, whatever.”_

_Taylor feels a familiar feeling of dread bubble up in her stomach. It’s only a matter of time before Karlie gets tired of not being able to hold her hand in public, or do… anything in public, really. It’s a quiet walk home and Karlie’s already off to the guest house as Taylor stays near the main house with her security detail._

_“Odd question but would you guys mind maybe staying outside or in the main house for a few hours?" Taylor tries to pass it off as casually as possible, “It’s just a bit much for her, I think, she’s not used to having security around for literally everything she does, so like just, until we go upstairs or something.”_

_“Sure thing.” Jake nods, adjusting his earpiece, “We’ll stay on the perimeter for now.”_

_“Thanks so much.” She grins, “Do any of you happen to know any vegan recipes that might work on a first try?”_

_When she returns to the guesthouse, Karlie’s spread out on the couch but immediately pops up her head to see what she’s brought back._

_“That is a lot of food.” She grins._

_“I think you mean ingredients, I have yet to make something edible with it,” Taylor bites her lip, “Tray bakes are a thing, right?”_

_“Sure,” Karlie smiles, “peel some vegetables, toss it in an oven tray, wait, done.”_

_“I can do that.” She tries to sound confident, “I can peel some vegetables, that’s within my skill set. You sit there and wait and dinner will be served, well, whenever this is done.”_

_Of course, Karlie doesn’t wait. Karlie has never waited. The second Taylor pushes the tray onto the rack of the preheated oven and closes the oven door, she feels Karlie’s body push against her from behind. She manages to turn around, trapped between the gas stove and Karlie’s front._

_“What are you doing?” She whispers, her fingertips gently roaming over Karlie’s forearms, “You can’t, my parents -”_

_“Your parents are conked out in the main house,” Karlie whispers back, her lips dangerously close to Taylors, “and it’s Thanksgiving. I want to say what I’m thankful for.”_

_“Karlie…”_

_“I’m thankful,” Karlie whispers, ignoring her warning, “for you. I’m thankful you took me to Big Sur, I’m thankful you’re giving this a go. I’m thankful for _this_,” she adds, brushes her lips against Taylors, “and for bringing me here,” she kisses her again, “and for asking security to stay outside.”_

_“How did you know?”_

_“Because if you feel half of what I’m feeling,” Karlie swallows, “you need them to stay out for a bit.”_

_Taylor wants to ask why and just push it the tiniest bit further but as soon as she opens her mouth, Karlie’s kissing her. She’s pushed against the counter and she reaches back, her finger skidding over the stove’s buttons and a spatula and then a saltshaker before she manages to find a grip on the counter. The apron’s undone before she knows it and Karlie tosses it aside before grabbing her legs and pulling her toward the edge of the counter._

_“You’re so hot.” Karlie whispers against her lips._

_And then Karlie’s lips are on her jaw, then down her neck, fingertips gripping her thighs as she keeps a tight grip around the model’s neck. Karlie’s teeth graze her collarbone and for a second Taylor feels worried about marks but there are always scarves to cover those up and she just _wants_ Karlie more because it’s so nice and it’s hot and –_

_It’s hot. It’s almost like she is feeling on fire. She pushes Karlie against the nape of her neck as she turns her own, giving the younger girl more access. Then she spots the flames._

_“Karlie, _fuck_!”_

_“Wha -”_

_She’s already off the counter, pulling a dazed Karlie back. The apron Karlie hastily cast aside is on fire and so is the paper bag Taylor used to transport ingredients in back to the guesthouse. Karlie splashes water onto the stove from a glass of water she’d poured earlier._

_“You have to take oxygen out, wait, towels, hold -”_

_Taylor tosses a towel onto the stove and watches it catch fire too. In a flash of a second, she can see the entire guesthouse and mansion go up in flames and maybe equally awful, she can picture the headlines – _Taylor’s house goes up in flames with Karlie Kloss there. _She’s about to try a second towel, wet this time, when Jake rushes in with a fire extinguisher. The fire is out within fifteen seconds._

_“What on earth happened here?”_

_When they turn around, her parents, Austin and his girlfriend are all standing in the middle of the open space room, looking at half the kitchen area being covered in foam. Despite Karlie’s length, Taylor can almost feel her shrink away behind her._

_\---_

“Honey.”

Andrea’s walked up behind her without her realising. Taylor releases her grip on the edge of the sink and turns around, smile immediately back in place.

“Austin was doing my head in.”

“He means well. He just doesn’t know when to stop.”

“I know.” Taylor forces another smile.

“How _is_ Karlie?”

“I don’t know,” Taylor sighs.

She only knows that Karlie is not Joe, and she is not here anymore.


	9. Chapter IX - Green eyes and freckles and your smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been very shit at updating this. Let's be super cliché and blame it on real-life issues. Women, right?  
Find me on twitter and tell me to get my act together: @getmedietcoke

**Chapter IX**

_April 25, 2019_

There’s a buzz. There’s an electric buzz in the air and Taylor can almost feel it crackling as one of the stylists is working on her hair. She watches him work in the reflection of the mirror before her eyes fall on Tree, who is _uncharacteristically_ quiet while she scrolls through her phone. If there’s one thing Taylor’s learnt throughout the years is that the redhead is rarely quiet; there is always an opinion to share or a thought to consider.

“Is everything fine?” She tries catching the redhead’s eye to no avail, “You’re very quiet.”

“The media’s caught onto the mural.” Tree responds without looking up, “It’s very good, there are some news crews on their way to Gulch, there are already a tonne of fans that figured it out, which is only fuelling it more – it’s _perfect_.”

She fights the urge to say anything smug. Taylor remembers the meeting about this promotional stunt several months ago. She remembers a few people on the team suggesting it was _too_ subtle, it was not going to be popular enough, it was going to be weird, but she had pushed for it and eventually got her way. Tree had contacted Kelsey Montague to create a butterfly mural and the artist had gladly obliged and here they were.

“Kelsey did good.” Taylor offers as a neutral topic of conversation, “When are we going out there?”

“Twenty minutes,” Tree finally puts her phone away, “just pose for a few pictures, say hi to the fans, just your usual. Try and keep your shroud of mystery though, that will aid the buzz for the actual album. We are just trying to for the entire butterfly vibe today, so if you do feel like indulging them when they ask questions, stick to the first two singles.”

Moments later, Tree is gone, and Taylor tries to not move her head too much when the stylist makes his finishing touches to her pink-dyed hair tips. When he is done too, she takes some time to go through her Instagram. The customised countdown definitely has done the trick because not only are people guessing what it is about, they are also sharing it. _Good._ She visits a few friends’ profiles and goes through their stories quickly.

“Five minutes!” She hears someone of her management team shout outside of her dressing room.

“Okay!” She shouts back, continuing to scroll through some hashtags.

She’s about to put her phone away when a small banner appears at the top of her screen.

_Karlie Kloss sent you a message._

She clicks it faster than she wanted to. A blink of an eye later, she’s staring at Karlie’s message – an Instagram story of her own with Taylor’s filter on it. It’s only twelve seconds and Taylor has to replay it four times before she even registers Karlie is talking about Project Runway. Then she replays it a few more times, looking at the white shirt and Karlie’s make up and Karlie’s eyes and –

“Stop it, Jesus.” She mumbles to herself as she watches it for the ninth time.

She double taps and sees the small heart pop up under Karlie’s message. For a few seconds, there’s nothing going on. Then there is and she almost immediately feels her heart sink.

_Typing…_

“Taylor,” Tree suddenly opens up the door to the dressing room and looks at her curiously, “car’s waiting, come on.”

“Yeah, coming.” She replies, immediately staring back at her phone.

Nothing.

_Typing…_

Nothing.

“Taylor, what the hell, come on.”

“Yeah, sorry – sorry.” She murmurs, putting her phone in her bag, “I’m ready.”

\---

The mural reveal goes great. The press chat goes great. Meeting the fans goes great, especially when she compliments them on figuring out the clues. Then she momentarily wonders whether some of them manage to figure out things that are _not_ clues, immediately thinks back of Karlie’s _typing…_ and almost freaks out while taking a picture with a girl called Jessica and talking to a guy she thinks is named Tom. Tree manoeuvres her to the side of the impromptu stage to talk to a local news outlet and after that, there’s a newspaper and –

It just keeps on going.

In the end, it takes about three hours until she’s out of the public eye again. Andrea and Scott are nearby, talking to some local friends and Tree is on the phone, undoubtedly talking to more press because everything always has to get scheduled beyond reason. It’s all very busy and loud, to the point where Taylor is pretty sure she can use it to sneak away.

“I’m just gonna go into my dressing room for a bit, there’s nothing happening anytime soon, right?” She asks Tree’s assistant, who immediately pulls out an iPad.

“You’re good for the next two hours,” the guy scrolls through a planner app, “yeah, you’re set for dinner at seven and there’s a radio interview before that, at half four? But you have plenty of time till then. Do you want me to block your schedule?”

The fact Tree’s preoccupied means she’s got the freedom to actually do so without being subjected to a torrent of questions.

“Yes,” she grins at the assistant, “block it for the next two hours, thanks Matt.”

Less than two minutes later, she’s in her dressing room with her shoes kicked off and a no disturb sign on the door. Automatically, she grabs her phone again to see what’s happened while she was busy the past few hours. There are some news notifications and some emails that have gone through but none of that is what she’s been looking for. She immediately goes back to Instagram, clicking through until she hits her inbox. The little red notification immediately leads her to the conversation with Karlie.

It’s a broken heart emoji.

_What._

She looks at the time Karlie sent it and tries to figure out what she said before to Karlie, what she has said in the past hours, tries to think of anything she may have said during interviews. Was Karlie watching the interviews? Did she – _upset_ Karlie? Why would she be upset? There are a dozen questions running through her mind and zero answers coming to the forefront. There’s only one solution to this, surely.

She taps the phone a few times before holding it to her face. The ringing echoes in her ear as she waits for the call to connect and Taylor hates how every second feels like ages.

“_Hi._”

Taylor lets out a sigh of relief, unaware to this moment she was actually holding her breath.

“Hey,” she breathes, “hey, are you alright?”

“_Sure_.” There’s a short silence, “_How are you?_”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?” Taylor murmurs, “I don’t –“ She pauses, “I don’t get your message. I know you used that filter thing, but I don’t understand the emoji.”

“_It’s pretty self-explanatory, I’d say._”

“You’re broken-hearted?” She feels herself get frustrated for a second before a new thought hits her, “Kar – did something happen with Josh?”

“_Oh wow,_” She almost cringes when Karlie laughs, “That_ is where your mind goes?”_ Karlie is quiet for a second, “_No. Nothing ever happens with Josh. It’s not Josh. It’s… me, I think.”_

Now she panics.

“Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?”

Another silence. It only lasts a couple of seconds but it’s long enough for Taylor’s mind to spin and think of Karlie being sick in addition to Andrea not being well and the lengths she’d go to in order to make sure they are both okay.

“_No,”_ Karlie pauses, _“I just miss you a lot. I miss how we used to be.”_

“That’s a very specific thing to say, quite randomly.” Taylor tries to dismiss it almost immediately even though she doesn’t know why, “What’s brought this on?”

_“You know that you’re like a global superstar, right?”_ Sarcasm laces Karlie’s voice, _“I was just on Twitter, you’re trending so I _stupidly_ clicked it and it’s just… pictures of you out in Nashville just now, and I couldn’t help but think of when I was in Nashville with you.”_

“That was nice.” Taylor mumbles, unsure what to say.

_“It was, yeah.” _Karlie sighs gently, _“I like what you’ve done with your hair. The pink dye tips, very cute.”_

“Thank you for saying that.”

_“Also look at you baring your midriff. If that is the new era’s look, you’re very in fashion.”_

“I think the era look might be suits.”

_“You’d be in fashion in suits, too.”_

“We’ll see. Today was ethereal-themed,” Taylor pauses, “butterflies and stuff.”

_“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a bare midriff apart from that one time.”_

Taylor doesn’t even have to ask what or when because she knows _exactly_ what Karlie is talking about.

\---

_“You could be a model, you know.”_

_“Don’t lie.”_

_“I’m serious,” the brunette’s voice gets higher, “look at you!”_

_She looks into the mirror for Karlie’s sake, without looking at her own reflection too much. Her jeans fit nicely and the top she’s wearing is cute and it’s just an overall good look. She notices Karlie getting up from the bed and walking up behind her, tries to anticipate the taller girl’s actions but is caught off guard when Karlie swiftly moves her hair aside and presses her lips against the nape of her neck._

_“No marks.” She manages to utter as Karlie wraps her arms around her waist, “there’s a TV interview tomorrow.”_

_“There are _always_ TV interviews.” Karlie murmurs against her lips, “Loving you is torture.”_

_Taylor’s stomach feels weird. She’s not sure whether it’s butterflies or a brick._

_“Dramatic.”_

_“You love it, really,” Karlie catches her eye in the mirror, “why don’t you ever do like _actual_ crop tops?”_

_“Because we don’t all have flat stomachs and shiny abs, Karlie.”_

_“Stop that,” the model doesn’t skip a beat, “here…”_

_Taylor inhales sharply when Karlie’s fingers grab the bottom hem of her top and glide it upward gently. Taylor watches her do it until Karlie’s fingers touch the underside of her bra._

_“Okay, stop it.”_

_“I’m trying to make a point,” Karlie smiles against her skin, “let me.”_

_Taylor huffs in mock annoyance as Karlie pulls her top up higher and pulls it over her head before turning her around to face her. She immediately feels like covering up again but Karlie’s not having any of it, dropping the top on the floor and reaching for Taylor’s hands to keep her from crossing her arms._

_“You’ve had your fun, stop it.” Taylor mumbles, “Singer, not a model.”_

_“You could fool me,” Karlie tilts her head to the side, “you _do_ know you’re, like, stupidly hot, right?”_

_“Karlie – stop.”_

_“I’m just saying,” the model pulls her in closer, the tips of her fingers gently roaming over the warm skin of her stomach, “it is my _professional_ opinion, you know, as a model, that you should have this on show more.” Karlie brushes her lips against hers softly, “Don’t get me wrong, I love your entire hot pants look and I love seeing those legs out but your upper half,” she grins, “deserves more attention.”_

_“I’ll make sure to tell the stylists to accommodate your weird thirst flex.”_

_“Don’t even joke about it.” Karlie smiles before wrapping her arms around Taylor’s neck, “I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off of you.”_

_“Are you trying to guilt trip me into not even having a crop top I fit into?”_

_“I’ll buy you one.”_

_Taylor grins. Karlie wiggles her eyebrows and kisses her again, pulling her as close as she could. Taylor lets the model turn them around and laughs when Karlie pushes her back onto the bed._

_“We are going to be late.”_

_“God, I so don’t care.” Karlie murmurs, pulling her own t-shirt over her head, “I could not care less. Let’s cancel.”_

_“We can’t _cancel_, Karlie.” Taylor pushes herself up on her elbows, “You know we can’t.”_

_“Technically, we could.” Karlie smiles, getting on top of the bed and getting on all fours over Taylor, “I could have mind-blowing sex with my really hot girlfriend and take her shopping for crop tops after.”_

_“Karlie…”_

_Her determination to make it to their late lunch reservation with the girls is starting to crumble and she knows it. Karlie knows it._

_“I can be quick?” Karlie whispers, “Do that thing -”_

_“_Right._” Taylor shoves at Karlie’s shoulder abruptly before sitting up, “We are going to have this lunch and then we’ll go shop for crop tops or whatever you want but _this_ is not happening right now.”_

_“_Fine_,” Karlie gives in, “spoilsport.”_

_“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Taylor sighs, getting up from the bed and walking over to where Karlie unceremoniously dropped her t-shirt on the floor._

_“Oh, you will.” Karlie smirks before picking up her own tee._

_\---_

“_Do you remember?_” Karlie tries.

“Vaguely.” Taylor lies, “I think I do? Anyway.”

“_Anyway…_” Karlie clears her throat, _“It’s a good look. How was the press?”_

“They were a fan of the midriff.”

Taylor can’t help but get the dig in and grins. She hears Karlie snort on the other side of the line and it feels _nice_, the random banter they can still have despite everything.

_“When is the music coming out?”_

“You literally shared the filter, Karlie.”

_“Midnight?”_ Karlie asks. She hums softly, _“Cool. I’ll let you know what I think.”_

“I’ll be looking forward to that.”

_“Are you going to be on TV for today? Like, today?”_

Tree would know the specifics, Taylor is sure of it. Then again, Tree never really seemed a big fan of having Karlie around – they had talked about it before and whilst it had been stressed that it was not a _personal_ issue, Tree had also pointed out that her love for professionalism clashed quite badly with the fact Karlie was a PR _disaster_ from a professional POV.

“Hold on just a second,” Taylor mumbles, turning over bits of paper that adorn her dresser, knowing full well that despite Tree’s exceptional organising skills, there _will_ always be loose scraps of paper laying around until their information all gets compiled and entered into the iPad. After a handful of useless ones, she finds a post-it note with channel names and times, “WZTV should be showing some stuff in five minutes,” Taylor says looking at the clock, “Can you get that?”

_“Yeah, Josh has this subscription thing for most channels, mainly for football and basketball but – aha!”_

Taylor ignores the mention of the younger Kushner brother and just listens to Karlie going through channels on her end of the phone. There’s a bit of a ruckus outside of her own dressing room and seconds later, her mother opens the door and is about to say something when she spots Taylor holding the phone against her ear.

“Is it Joe?” Andrea asks, pointing at the phone.

“Hmmm.”

“I’ll leave you to it, Tree wants you for a radio snippet in half an hour.” Andrea whispers before closing the door again.

_“Who were you talking to?” _Karlie asks, _“Was it Tree?”_

“Nah, not Tree.” Taylor sighs, playing with the post-it, “Just my mom.”

_“Ah! How is my fave? How is Andrea doing? And your dad?”_

For a second, she wants to just tell Karlie about her mom’s health, and how her dad tried to bond with Joe over his wine collection weeks prior and how that plan miserably failed because Joe is a lager guy and not into sauvignon blancs at all. She wants to tell her how Austin embarrassed her by bringing up the time she almost burnt the guesthouse down. She wants to tell her about getting her hair tips dyed pink and how that was an entire story too because the stylist had worked with a model Karlie didn’t particularly liked and Taylor heard _so_ much gossip about her. She wants to talk about the kitten she adopted. She wants to say how Meredith whacked Olivia and Olivia broke one of her awards in the aftermath of their fight.

“They’re alright.”

_“I miss chats with Scott. I had a delicious vintage wine the other day, I’m going to ask Josh what it was and I’ll text it to you, I think Scott would love it.”_

She wants to tell Karlie that the other day, when Tree mentioned a photoshoot with a certain photographer, Taylor vetoed him because he once was mean to Karlie. She wants to say she had chicken tenders from Mike’s and that Karlie was right, they were better than the ones they once got in the East Village. She wants to say that there was a song she wrote that she almost put onto the new album but then didn’t because she still wanted it to be _just_ Karlie’s song one day.

“I’m sure he would like that.”

_“Oh, there we go, five o’ clock news. Oh, there you are!”_

The sound is muted but Taylor watches herself on the screen on the other side of the room anyway. She didn’t have _dead face_, that was a bonus. People seemed to really like the mural. She liked the mural. It was a good day of promo, everyone seemed to really like the way she presented herself and announced the new era – it would be good.

_“It’s nice,”_ Karlie blurted out, _“You look nice. Hey, what’s this album going to be called?”_

“I could tell you,” Taylor smiles, “but I’d have to kill you.”

“Oh Taylor, “Karlie laughs, “I’d love to see you try.”

Taylor knows she is no match for strong arms and powerful thighs. Truth been told, she doesn’t think Karlie would have to even fight her to make her give the model anything she desired. She’s pretty sure the smile would do. _Green eyes and freckles and your smile…_

For now, she keeps listening in silence, with Karlie on the line. There is nothing to say.


	10. Me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a solid excuse for not updating this sooner. Alas, truth is I was just in a bit of a rut and did not feel like writing. Fortunately (?), CoVid-19 has bored me out of my skull to the point where writing feels like a welcome escape. Additional bonus: after this chapter, there will -finally- be some close-proximity-Kaylor.  
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_April 26, 2019_

Ten minutes within waking up, her life has turned into a flurry of well-wishes and questions and schedules Tree comes up with. With ‘Me!’ being released, it’s like she is suddenly at the forefront of the industry again. In between her first coffee and her fourth, she realises this is the first time in quite literally _years_ she’s going through that rush again.

The familiarity is thrilling, and that very contradiction appeals to her.

“Are you ready for these interviews then?” Tree appears out of nowhere as per usual, “I have a few lined up, we are going to start off with, well,” the redhead grimaces, “the somewhat boring ones, but I made sure to include some interviewers you really like so as we get through the day, you’ll hopefully have a bit more fun.”

“Cool.”

“There’s nothing you can’t discuss apart from the obvious,” Tree continues, “apparently there’s some buzz about your mother and her health again so try and stay clear from that topic, don’t think anything else is an issue. Obviously, they have all been briefed to not ask about Joe, but if they do, just deflect it.”

“He does like his privacy.” Taylor smiles at her publicist whilst taking a sip of her ice coffee, “Has he called yet?”

“Would he not rather call _you_ than the assistant?”

There’s a hint of surprise in Tree’s voice but Taylor is quick to respond to it.

“He knows I’m really busy today, doesn’t want to disturb me. He’s just really thoughtful like that, I’m lucky really.”

“You _are_,” Tree sighs, “God knows men like that are rare.”

Taylor nods in agreement because _fuck_, aren’t they just. The interviewer is already sitting in his chair as they walk toward the set up, and Tree makes some quick introductions while Taylor says hi to the team working the interview. Within minutes, Tree’s left and she’s answering questions about new music and excitement levels and lyrics, happier about some questions than she is about others. It all comes to an abrupt halt when her phone buzzes.

_Karlie._

Her phone buzzes again and she recognises the haptics pattern instantly. She remembers watching nimble fingers enter it into her phone, remembers looking up at a sharp jawline and then glistening eyes and rosy lips. She remembers the playfulness that ensued when she got mock-angry at Karlie when she nonchalantly dropped the phone onto the sofa cushions and it bounced off, onto the hardwood floor. She remembers feeling actually angry when Karlie pinned her down in amusement and begged her to forgive her, mainly because she was _really_ trying to get out of the model’s grip, and she couldn’t.

“Just a second, please.”

She knows the interviewer will wait because why wouldn’t they, she’s got a new single out, a new video and a new album is imminent. By all means, he’ll wait. With a quick swipe of her thumb, she unlocks the phone and reads the message.

_‘Saw the video when I woke up - you look pretty. THAT FRENCH! Très adorable.’_

Taylor can’t help but smile at Karlie interjecting some of the very limited French she knows. There used to be a time where they’d make plans for baking and then give up halfway through the process, slumping down onto the kitchen floor with bowls of cookie dough and scoffing it down while trying to outdo each other in the language department. Karlie would win most of the time, mainly because she’d abandon their linguistic endeavours and the cookie dough and would put her mouth to better use.

Taylor did not mind losing.

_‘Thanks! How are you?’_

For someone who _hates_ small talk, Taylor realises she makes a lot of it nowadays, especially when Karlie is involved. She watches the little speech bubble come and go multiple times before another message pops up.

_‘I’m good, bit bored. Stuck in New York for the time being so just trying to get that garden going again, it’s been a harsh winter haha’_ Apparently small talk now dipped into gardening territory. Taylor grimaces slightly at how awkward this has all become. _‘How are you?’_

It’s a good question. It’s also one she doesn’t really know the answer to. She’s _fine_ in the general meaning of the world and life is going pretty okay as long as you don’t add the disappointing lack of Karlie to the equation.

_‘Good, I adopted the kitten from the video.’_

It’s enough to deflect from the actual meaning of the question, Taylor knows. If anything, she’s always been a pro at gently guiding Karlie away from questions that were just a bit too real, a bit too close to home and most importantly, a bit too final when it came to defining things between them.

_‘THE CUTE KITTEN? TELL ME EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW, IS HE WITH YOU RIGHT NOW, SEND ME PICTURES!’_

“I’m sorry - Taylor?” She looks up to the interviewer looking at her from across the room, “Do you want me to come back in half an hour or -“

“Yeah, actually, that sounds great.” She doesn’t skip a beat, “I’m so sorry, just something I really need to take care of.”

It’s not a complete lie. She does need to take care of… whatever this is. She waits for the interviewer to leave the little set up in the corner of the room, watches the light and microphone people leave too, before turning her attention back to her phone. There’s a flurry of texts from Karlie as reaction to the pictures she sent of Benjamin, and then there’s a slightly ominous one at the bottom.

_‘Weird question…’_

_‘Shoot’_

_‘How are the girls?’_

For a second -a brief second- Taylor wants to make a joke. A flirty, banter-y joke. A joke that is _so _Karlie she is sure the other blonde would be laughing at it and she could hear it all the way from New York. Then again, that’s not exactly what _friends_ do and above all, Karlie and Taylor are friends now. _Friends, friends, friends._

_‘Dibbles is okay. Mer is her usual jovial self, you know what she’s like.’_

_‘She been scratching those 40M legs again, has she?’_

_\---_

_Taylor is not entirely sure _how_ it happened, but one second Meredith was happily purring in her lap and the next she’d dragged her nail over Taylor’s thigh, even though it looked as if she’d dragged it _through_ instead. After the initial shock and the painful sting of the broken skin, she’d texted Karlie, who had gone out for a run and had promised to bring back drinks. To break up her day, she’d maybe, just maybe, exaggerated the wound a little bit, making it out to be something that required _immediate_ attention from Karlie._

_That was six minutes and thirty-two seconds ago, and now Karlie basically stormed into the room, no drinks in sight. She gauges the model’s face for a reaction as she stops applying pressure to her leg with the towel she’d grabbed the second she realised there was quite a bit of blood. She moves the cloth aside and glances down before looking back at Karlie._

_“Jesus Christ, Taylor.”_

_“It _really_ hurts.”_

_She waits for Karlie to kneel down and run her finger gently over her leg, careful to not touch the edge of the scar. Karlie’s brow creases a bit when she examines Taylor’s leg and suddenly, Taylor thinks she made a mistake by making the scratch out to be worse than it actually was. She just wanted _some_ attention but now Karlie’s on her phone and it’s all a bit much._

_“Are you googling whether I’m going to get infected and die?” She tries to make light of the situation._

_“No, I’m going to facetime my dad.”_

_“Karlie,” Taylor hisses once she hears the phone ringing, “Karlie, put down the phone. It’s not necessary, I’m fine, I can stand - look!”_

_She makes a feeble attempt to stand up straight but Karlie’s quick to get up herself and push her down onto the chair again. Seconds later, Kurt Kloss picks up the phone and is looking at his daughter curiously._

_“Hi Karls, what’s up?”_

_“Dad, does this look bad?”_

_Taylor does not think she has ever felt more embarrassed than her -sort of- girlfriend’s dad looking at a cat scratch on her leg over facetime._

_“Is that your leg?”_

_“No, it’s obviously Taylor’s.”_

_Obviously._

_“That looks like a nasty scratch. That might need a stitch or two.”_

_Taylor thinks she can die when Karlie looks up at her with her ‘told you so’ face. She watches Karlie finish up her call with Kurt as the model’s fingers roam over her shin gently. As soon as Karlie gets off the phone, she turns her attention to the scratch again._

_“Meredith and I will be having words.” Karlie mumbles, “You have a medic around here somewhere, right?”_

_“I think so.” Taylor swallows at the prospect, “It’s also not _that_ bad, Karlie.”_

_“I think you’re playing this down.” Karlie says gently, “Bed rest is what you need, bed rest and a restraining order against Dr Meredith Grey.”_

_“It’s a _scratch_, Karlie. I have rehearsals to do and places to be.”_

_“But what if it gets infected and you have to get it amputated?” Karlie sits in her lap, careful to not put any pressure on Taylor’s leg, “Then what am _I_ gonna do? Your legs are like, the best part of you.”_

_“_Very_ rude.” Taylor whispers as the model leans in closer and kisses her, “What about my arms? You said you liked my arms.”_

_“You could tone them a bit more.” Karlie grins, “Are we now just going to list body parts of yours that I like because we might be here for a while.”_

_“Tell me anyway. I’m severely wounded. I might die and then you’ll regret not telling me.”_

_Karlie pulls back and looks at her with a playful glint in her eye before closing the gap between them as slowly as she possibly could and brushing her lips against Taylor’s._

_“You are _such_ a drama queen.” Karlie whispers, “I thought it was just a scratch?”_

_“A scratch on 40M legs.” Taylor grins, “It’s an insurer’s worst nightmare.”_

_“I’m a model and I haven’t even insured mine.”_

_“So, I could not get into any trouble if something were to happen to _your_ legs?” Taylor tries to play coy, her hands gently squeezing Karlie’s legs through the spandex of her workout gear, “That’s good to know.”_

_She reaches in to kiss Karlie again, but the model is faster, pulling back and wrapping her hand loosely around Taylor’s throat before she gets too close._

_“Careful,” Karlie breathes, “I haven’t finished my work out and your leg needs to be seen to. You don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”_

_“I don’t need long.” Taylor breathes, squeezing harder, “Please, Karlie. It’s been like over a week.”_

_Ocean eyes stare into hers for a few seconds before Karlie’s hold on her throat loosens and the model just nods before crashing their lips together. There’s a hint of desperation when Taylor tries to pull Karlie in closer and the taller girl tries to avoid putting any pressure on Taylor’s thigh - unsuccessfully when Taylor suddenly gasps and grips her leg._

_“Fuck,” Karlie mumbles underneath her breath, “right, Tay, call the medic.”_

_“I’ll call him later.”_

_“No,” Karlie grunts, “call him _now_. Let him stitch that up and then you’re getting into bed.”_

_She climbs off of Taylor’s lap and fixes her hair as the singer reaches for her phone with a sigh._

_“What are you gonna do then?”_

_“I’m going to have a quick shower,” Karlie says slowly, “and then I’m going to make sure you stay in bed for the rest of the day. Right -” she leans down to brush her lips against Taylor’s one last time, “see you upstairs in a bit, yeah?”_

_It takes ten minutes for the medic to see to her leg. The rest of the afternoon is spent with Karlie._

_\---_

Taylor subconsciously runs her hand over her thigh as she runs through that afternoon again in her head before typing a response.

_‘No, she’s just been a bit of a diva. Nothing new there.’_

_‘Do they miss me, you think?’_

_We all do_.

_‘I guess so.’_

_‘Do you think maybe I can visit the cats next time we are both in New York?’_

It’s a laden question. And of course, _of course_, the right answer would be to deflect, to say life is about to get really busy and Taylor will barely have any time to stay in a certain place for longer than 24 hours at a time and that would never work with a schedule of a fashion model because Karlie too is on the go all the time. It would be easy to blame a lack of contact on their busy lives, it would be easy to place New York on a pedestal of eternal yearning and missed opportunities and unfortunate instances where they miss each other just by a couple of hours. It would be easy.

But easy doesn’t have Karlie.

Maybe it just has Joe.

_‘Sure, next time we are both in NYC, come see the girls. And meet Benji.’_

Taylor deliberately does not mention herself.

_‘You’re gonna be there too, right?’_

There’s no wink emoji at the end of the text. Taylor can’t help but snort. She can hear the interview crew in the distance, can only imagine how _pissed_ they are that she basically delayed an entire interview for god knows what.

_‘Of course, someone has to take care of the catering.’_

_‘And that’s why I love you.’_

Taylor knows it’s just a casual remark and she really (_really_) should not look into it any more than she is currently doing but she can’t help but read the text over and over again. Words fail her when it comes to writing back something witty and suave, just anything that might make Karlie chuckle, wherever she is, and look forward to spending some time with the cats - and Taylor. _I have to clean the flat._ She starts mentally compiling a list of things she really needs to get done before Karlie comes to visit, preferably done in a way that would not alert Karlie that she actually made an effort because that would be slightly weird.

She can’t afford to be weird about this.

“Taylor? Any idea when we’ll be good to go again? I don’t want to pressure you, but we are looking at a rather tight deadline for this interview to be edited, and -”

“Give me two minutes!” Taylor shouts back. _Tree is gonna kill me._

_‘I need to go; I’ve got a pissed off interviewer on my case and I should probably try and keep them sweet with this new music coming out.’_

_‘Good shout, I have outfits to plan for my cat visit, anyway.’_

Of course, Karlie would be the one to throw caution in the wind and not give a single fuck how weird or eager she would come across. Taylor is relatively sure the model is in fact going to lay out outfits and pace up and down the room, contemplating choices. She’s watched her do it dozens of time. Only this time, she won’t be looking at Taylor and ask her what she thinks, no, that’ll be something - _she can’t possibly ask Joshua. _Taylor almost immediately feels uncomfortable at the thought and part of her wants to text back and figure out whether Karlie will actually tell Josh she’s visiting Taylor but then that would be _weird_ again and she just can’t.

“Hi again!”

The interviewer is perfectly smiley and pleasant, but Taylor is well aware he’s most likely been shouted at and got a dozen phone calls in the past half an hour asking where the hell the interview is. If anything, she’s going to try and get through this the best way she can, hopefully being nice enough for him to forget she stalled him this long.

“Sorry about that,” she smiles, “family emergency.”

The second she says it, she knows she’s made a mistake because she can see him perk up at the thought of getting some sort of scoop out of her.

“Oh no,” he takes a seat opposite from her, “sorry to hear - everything alright?”

“All fine,” Taylor says gently, stuffing her phone in the back pocket of her trousers, “something about the cats but it’s all good.”

It’s an excellent save. There’s nothing out of the ordinary when she talks about cats, never mind cat emergencies. It’s a good way to mention she’s adopted Benjamin, which immediately shifts the attention back to the video and new music and -

Tree will be proud. She will think Taylor has been professional and calm and definitely did not fuck it up.

The rest of the interviews go by without a hitch. Karlie does not blow her phone up (good but also bad) and Tree does not text her about stalling the first interviewer (very good). The day turns out to be rather uneventful regarding the circumstances and that’s _great_.

“I think we’ve got it.” The final interviewer looks at her camera man, “Yup, that’s it. Thank you _so_ much for this.”

“Thank _you_,” Taylor smiles, “this was fun, thanks buddy.”

“It’s really very good,” the brunette emphasises, “big fan, this album is going to be huge.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Taylor breaks out in a smile, “that means a lot.”

What follows are the usual goodbyes and well wishes before they start packing up and Taylor walks away from the little set up. When she grabs her phone to turn no disturb off - and to text Tree, of course- there’s only one message from mere minutes ago.

_‘What do you think?’_

It’s a picture of Karlie in a crop top with cat whiskers on it.

_‘Haha, it’s perfect!’_

_You’re perfect._ Taylor can’t help but smile.


	11. Chapter XI - Cruel Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back from the dead.

_May 3, 2019_

If for some reason her music career suddenly crashes and burns, Taylor is pretty sure she could start her own cleaning agency and make good money from it. After a full day of cleaning after the cleaners had gone through the entire flat, she’s pretty sure it’s never looked better. Some might say polishing the living room floor was a tad over the top, but those people would be _wrong_. Olivia most definitely is not a fan of the newly polished wood, slipping as she tries to get across the living room, away from Benjamin. The newest addition to the feline triumvirate is quickly scooped up before he annoys the older cats even more and Taylor walks through the flat slowly, trying to find anything that is out of place before Karlie gets there.

And something _does_ feel off.

She notices it as soon as she stands still in the hallway. Benji is purring loudly, digging his nose into the nape of her neck and sniffing so hard Taylor thinks he might be inhaling her moisturiser right now (Estée Lauder 72-hour protection, not at _all_ because Karlie is the brand’s ambassador so she’d pick up on it and maybe make a remark about it and Taylor could pretend this was just yet another fun thing they shared).

“What is it, buddy?” She mumbles to the cat, looking around the place.

With Benji trying to push his nose against her cheek and generally being cute but unhelpful, she paces up and down the hallway some more. It’s dumb, surely. There is absolutely nothing both a professional team of cleaners and herself could have missed. The place is so clean you could eat off the floor. Does cleanliness even matter to Karlie this much? Taylor has her doubts but a good clean never hurt anybody.

It’s not like she’s done all of this _for_ Karlie, it was more of a way to distract herself from the anticipation of seeing the blonde model again. And she didn’t go through her entire wardrobe for three hours _for_ Karlie, that was just her being distracted by the amount of clothes she has. And the long-winded shower and immaculate make-up was _definitely not_ for Karlie but just because she wanted to look nice for herself. It makes perfect sense.

_Karlie would not even care._

The buzzer goes and Taylor feels a slight pinch through her shirt where Benjamin tries to dig his nails into her. She quickly puts him down before walking to the door, making sure to check her hair in the mirror once more - you know, for her own benefit.

When the door opens, it’s an immediate flurry of limbs and expensive perfume, both of which knock the air out of her lungs when Karlie wraps her arms around her so tight she can hardly breathe. She revels in it, reciprocating the hug as Karlie shows no sign of letting go anytime soon. She’s not sure how long they stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, but Taylor does have enough common sense to push the front door shut and prevent Benji from escaping. She’s pretty sure somewhere in the building her security team is very confused, but she doesn’t care. She _really_, really does not care.

“I missed you.” Karlie whispers, her breath feeling hot against Taylor’s ear, “How have you been?”

“All good,” Taylor manages to mumble before pulling back, “you look well.”

“Just threw this on, really,” Karlie points at the jeans and the Stones t-shirt she is wearing, and Taylor immediately believes the nonchalance, “you look freaking _stunning_.”

“This?” She pulls at her shirt’s collar, “Super old, just fancied wearing it - anyway, _this_ is Benji.”

She scoops him up once more, almost dragging him out of Karlie’s bag that had got dropped during the hug and was immediately deemed investigation-worthy by the small cat. Karlie squeals and holds out her arms and Taylor is more than happy to push the small ball of fur into her arms before stepping back.

“He is so _soft_.” Karlie whispers, nuzzling his head gently, “Hi buddy.”

Watching Karlie cuddle the kitten reminds Taylor of when she brought home Olivia and how they’d spent an entire weekend cooing over the newest addition to the family while trying to keep Meredith from shredding her to bits. Taylor watches Karlie murmur to Benji, grins when he mews so loudly Karlie just glances at Taylor in total awe, feels a slight twang in her chest when Karlie looks _enamoured_ with the kitten.

Thank God for Olivia.

The Scottish fold has finally realised who’s set foot in the apartment again. With a loud meow, she basically comes running at Karlie, immediately headbutting the model’s legs and curling her tail in sheer anticipation.

“Oh my God, _hi_!” Karlie seems momentarily torn between letting go of Benjamin and picking up Olivia, so she squats down to pet her while keeping a firm grasp on the new kitten. “Hi my beautiful girl. Hi!”

The proximity to Olivia seems too much for Benjamin. With a loud mew, he jumps out of Karlie’s clasp and scurries away. Taylor makes a half-hearted effort to grab him but happily lets him sprint off to the master bedroom before turning back to the sight of Karlie rubbing Olivia’s belly.

“I’ll forever be amazed why she lets you do that.”

“Magic fingers,” Karlie doesn’t skip a beat, “I don’t know, I’m just good with -”

The innuendo is _right_ there. Taylor snorts and looks away, trying not to full on laugh. When she looks back at the model, Karlie’s got up and is reaching her arms out.

“We’ve already done this.” Taylor mumbles when Karlie engulfs her in another hug, “Déjà vu.”

“Genuinely don’t care,” Karlie scoffs, “it’s been _forever_ since I’ve seen you,” she sighs gently, “or this flat. Oh wow, you’ve really gone for the renovations, this has changed a _lot_ \- is that a marble countertop?”

And just like that, Karlie lets go of her and walks over to the remodelled kitchen area. Taylor inhales deeply, both thankful and annoyed Karlie’s scent has somehow already worked its way into the fabric of her shirt. She follows the model through the flat while Karlie comments on any changes she spots - surprisingly, she catches most of them.

“I’m starting to see why you rented Cornelia Street,” she grins, “is there anything in here that is still the way it was?”

“The beams.” Taylor points out, “Left the beams and the hardwood floors in, replaced pretty much everything else.”

“At least these are not cracked.” Karlie taps her heel against the living room floor, “Remember that _really_ squeaky floorboard in No. 23?” The taller girl looks at Taylor over her shoulder, “And the time I had to get tweezers out for that splinter in your foot?”

“Wooden floors are not meant to be _easy_, Karlie. They’re meant to be pretty.”

“Pretty things are never easy.”

Karlie says it so casually Taylor is not even sure she meant anything by it. Without asking for the younger girl’s opinion, she grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses. Finding the corkscrew proves to be a challenge, partly because her cleaning spree means she has put things in places they should be (in this case, the corkscrew is not just lying next to the sink, where she usually puts it) and partly because Karlie’s playing with the cats again.

“You comfy down there?” Taylor suppresses a grin when she puts two glasses of sauvignon on the coffee table, right next to Karlie who’s sprawled out on the rug with Benjamin on top of her chest, “Want a cushion?”

“I _am_ the cushion,” Karlie replies, “God, look at him.” She pets his head a few times before turning to Taylor, “Do you remember that time Meredith got stuck in your cashmere sweater?”

\---

_“I’m pretty sure you cannot just flambé pancakes like that, Karlie.”_

_“They’re not pancakes, they’re crêpes.”_

_“French pancakes.”_

_Karlie stopped stirring the bowl of batter to give her a look._

_“If they’d hear you say this in Paris, they would ban you.” She warned, lifting up the spoon to wave it in Taylor’s face, “And that would be inconvenient because I’d like to take you there at some point."_

_“I’ve been to Paris.” Taylor laughed, pushing the spoon away, “Quite a few times.”_

_“You haven’t been to Paris with _me_,” Karlie retorted, “I promise you, you haven’t experienced Paris before you’ve had a croissant from Angelina’s,” the spoon went back in to the bowl, “besides, Paris is supposedly the most romantic city in the world, so I’d like to take you there anyway.”_

_The silence was not deafening but it definitely meant something. Taylor couldn’t help but notice Karlie tried her best to look anywhere but directly at her and reached out to the taller girl when Karlie grabbed a pan._

_“Hey.” She said gently, taking the pan out of the younger girl hands and putting it down on the counter, “I’d _love_ to go to Paris with you.”_

_“Yeah?” A hint of a smile._

_“Yes.” Taylor whispered, pulling the blonde closer, “Let’s go next year. After tour.”_

_Karlie kissed her. Soft lips upon her own and nails digging into her sides where her shirt had ridden up a bit. Karlie pulled her in even closer and kissed her again. Taylor’s breath caught in her throat when Karlie’s hands slid up the back of her sweater, almost forgetting about the pancakes altogether. Almost. Suddenly, Karlie pushed her off._

_“Meredith, don’t!” Karlie exclaimed._

_Immediately, Taylor looked at her oldest cat who had quietly jumped onto the counter and had tiptoed her way toward the bowl of batter and the gas hob. Karlie turned to switch the flames off but Taylor had already instinctively reached for the cat, grabbing her from the counter. In a flurry of limbs, Karlie managed to whack the spoon, causing it to ungraciously splatter batter over the counter before landing on the floor with a loud thud._

_“Mer, oh _shit_!”_

_The cat panicked, clawing at Taylor’s sweater in a futile attempt to get away. Karlie grabbed her and pried her off Taylor, setting her down before looking back up at the older girl._

_“Oh.” Karlie bit her lip to stifle a laugh, “Oh, babe.”_

_“That’s $300 down the drain.” Taylor sighed, plucking at a thread Meredith had successfully clawed out of place._

_“There’s some goop on - just take it off.”_

_Karlie grinned before grabbing the hem of the sweater and pulling it up, waiting for Taylor to raise her arms before pulling the now ruined sweater off entirely._

_“This is the least subtle you’ve ever been.” Taylor smiled as Karlie tossed the sweater on the floor and pulled her in closer, “What’s next? Wine on my jeans to get _those_ off?”_

_“Would it work?”_

_“You could just ask.”_

_The look in Karlie’s eyes could not be described by anything other than visceral._

_“Take your jeans off.”_

_“That’s not asking.” Taylor said coyly, “Asking is -”_

_Karlie didn’t wait for the end of her sentence to take matters into her own hands. Seconds later, Taylor found herself pressed against the counter with her jeans on the floor._

_\---_

“Vaguely.” Taylor swallows back the memory, “I’ve finally managed to learn how to trim their nails, that definitely helped.”

“I don’t understand why you just don’t pay someone to do it.”

“And then be plastered across gossip magazines saying I’m spoilt, or the cats are misbehaved? No thanks.” Taylor sighs, “I’m just gonna - I’ll be right back, bathroom. You good?”

“Never better.” Karlie looked up, “You good?”

_No._ Thinking back of her last encounter with Karlie in Cornelia Street had caused her stomach to do somersaults and staying in the same room as the model was not helping. A quick break would -hopefully- work, or at least manage to qualm whatever it was she was feeling right now.

“Yeah, just really need to pee.”

“Mind if I put some music on?” Karlie’s voice echoed through the apartment as Taylor walked to the bathroom.

“Be my guest!” Taylor yells back, before going into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she mumbles to her reflection in the mirror, “God, this was not a good idea. This was dumb,” she sighs, “you’re fucking dumb.”

It takes her about five minutes to calm down. Some cold water, some running over things to say and some deep breaths later, she’s confident it’s not _that_ bad. She can do this. She can definitely do this. She’s positive.

The positivity starts to fade as soon as she opens the bathroom door. There, from her living room, she can faintly hear music playing. She immediately speeds up her pace and runs into the living room halfway through the second track of the album in her media system. _Fuck._ The punch to her gut gets only intensified when she lays eyes on Karlie, who’s just standing next to the CD player gazing. Taylor tries to make her way over to the remote on the fireplace mantle before it’s too late, but the bridge has already started.

_Said I'm fine but it wasn't true  
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you  
And I snuck in through the garden gate  
Every night that summer just to seal my fate  
And I screamed -_

The song ends abruptly when Taylor pulls the power cord in a haze of panic. There are a few seconds of silence before she even dares to look over at Karlie.

“That,” Karlie swallows, “that’s me. That’s us.”

“No, it’s not.” Taylor feels the panic bubble in the pit of her stomach, “It’s not.”

“It is,” the taller blonde seems out of sorts, “you bought me that really expensive drone, and you basically exclusively came through the garden gate and,” Karlie gestures, “you felt blue, you _literally_ said you felt blue all summer, and the night you were drunk in the backseat of the Range Rover and we had that fight and,” there’s an abrupt pause, “what the fuck.”

_Oh shit. Oh shit._

“You should leave.”

She blurts it out and Karlie whips her head around fast enough to get whiplash.

“_Excuse me_?” Karlie sounds icily cool.

“I think you should leave.” Taylor repeats, dropping the power cord and crossing her arms, “You can’t just,” she swallows, “come in here and touch my stuff and -”

“Oh my _God_,” Karlie exclaims, “you literally told me I could put some music on! It’s not my fault the CD in your fucking CD player is your fucking demo of whatever the fuck this album is.”

“Stop shouting.” Taylor swallows, “The neighbours -”

“I could not give a rat’s ass about your _fucking_ neighbours,” Karlie shouts, “they have heard _way_ more when I practically lived here. I cannot _believe_ you right now.”

“Karlie, you’re upset,” she tries, “I’m sorry you are upset, I’m sorry you think this song is about you or whatever, but -”

“Oh, come _on_!” the model sounds like she’s about to cry, “I’m not _stupid_, Taylor. I know you are supposed to be the frigging genius here and I’m considered some stupid airhead or whatever but I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were, Karlie.”

“That,” the blonde points at the CD player, her voice now less loud but more determined, “was about me. I know it and you know it. There is absolutely nobody else you could have written that about, especially not that English -”

“You need to leave.” Taylor interrupts her before Karlie can finish her sentence, “Please.”

“You know,” Karlie points at her, “this is not fair. None of this is fair. I just wanted to come see you and spend time with you and the girls and this kitten. I thought this was progress, I thought you and I could -” another pause, “I just really wanted to have a nice evening with you because I’ve missed that. And now,” one more pause, “I’m getting really fucking sick and tired of you telling me to leave, Taylor.”

“Yeah well,” Taylor mumbles, “you left the second you decided to settle for Josh.”

She knows she’s crossed a line as soon as the words leave her mouth. Karlie opens her mouth, then closes it again immediately. There’s instant regret. Taylor wants to apologise but Karlie’s glare is piercing through her, there’s no way she can even talk to her right now.

“That was low.” The younger woman whispers, and Taylor could swear Karlie’s voice quivers, “That was…”

Karlie doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she stalks past Taylor and into the hallway. Taylor purses her lips together and follows her, carefully observing her as she puts on her coat and pulls her hair loose from beneath the collar. _Never out of style._ Taylor bitterly thinks as Karlie grabs her bag from the small side table Taylor put it on earlier. Taylor can feel her heart beat thud in her throat. It is there, pounding in her ears, painfully.

She wants to say something.

She _should_ say something.

Before she can decide on whether she should say anything, or at least try to, Karlie’s made the decision for her. Without so much as a look in her direction, the model grabs the door handle and swings the door wide open before stepping through and slamming the door closed behind her as hard as she possibly could.

The thud echoes and Taylor knows Karlie did it on purpose. _I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your fucking neighbours._ It’s petty but she can’t really blame Karlie for it. There’s a pathetically whiny meow at her feet and she picks up Benji, scratching behind his ear gently. Both Meredith and Olivia have followed the fight from the distance but now tentatively walk over to the front door, trying to figure out what just happened.

“We fucked up, buddy.” Taylor whispers into Benjamin’s fur, “We fucked up really bad.”

He smells like Karlie. Taylor can’t help but holding on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out quarantine, lockdowns & a whole bunch of real-life matters mess up writing schedules and plans. Luckily, I've been writing quite a bit since folklore came out and with a potential Karlie pregnancy on the horizon now, I thought this would be a cool time to revive this story. So here you are!
> 
> In addition, I'm toying with the idea of doing an 'Inspiration' series where I basically... turn every single Taylor Swift song into a Kaylor one-shot. I'd be starting with 'Folklore: Inspiration' which would have 17 chapters (i.e. one-shots), then work backwards and do 'Lover:Inspiration', etc.
> 
> Is that something people would potentially be interested in? Come share your thoughts & feelings. Find me on Twitter (@GetMeDietCoke), WattPad or just hit me up on here!
> 
> Cheers!


	12. Chapter XII - Lover

_May 24, 2019_

Paris is beautiful. She’s been here close to a dozen times but this time it really takes her back. She stares out at the Seine from the hotel room window while Joe and the security team bring in the luggage. There’s some French chatter in the back and soft talking between the head of her security detail and Joe before everyone clears the room and it’s just her and the Brit. She hears him plotter about in the background before he shows up next to her, glancing over at her before pointing at the Seine.

“Gorgeous view,” he grins, “do you fancy talking a walk along the river later on?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Taylor replies, “fresh air will help with the jetlag, too.”

“Sounds like a you-problem,” Joe nudges her, “London to Paris isn’t too bad. You sure you don’t want to take a quick nap or something? Want me to fetch you some food?”

“I’m good. Just need to keep busy, I’ll be fine.”

She’s about to turn away when Joe’s fingers clasp around her wrist. It’s out of the ordinary; Joe usually trails along and stays in the background of whatever she is doing but this time round, she looks up at blue eyes that are studying her seriously.

“You need a break, love,” the term of endearment lingering, “PR is going to kick off again next month and you’ve not,” he pauses, “had an easy start to this month. If you _ever_ feel like you want to talk about it -”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Darling, I talk more to your security people than you do.” Joe sighs, “If someone comes to your flat and you have a _fight_, your team knows about it. And one of them told me.”

Taylor knows it is Sam. It’s _always_ Sam. He and Joe have struck up some weird form of camaraderie and while it usually doesn’t bother her, his loose-lipped behaviour ticks her off this time around. _Oh shit_.

“Has anyone told -”

“Nobody’s told Tree, chill.” Joe grins, “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Taylor,” the blonde man continues, “I know that this,” he points between them, “is not the most conventional arrangement, but I think after all this time, we are close enough for you to be able to talk to me, right?” He pauses, “You’re important to me.”

The fact she immediately has to think about a 6’1” model when Joe says _important_ should be a giveaway that she is once again screwed. Joe seems to pick up on the fact she’s drifted off into her own headspace again because he squeezes her wrist gently.

“Sorry,” Taylor swallows, “I’m just… jet lagged.”

“Have a nap.” Joe states, not leaving room for any discussion, “I’m going to go check with security whether we need any of them with us when we walk around, I’ll bring you back a croissant or something.”

“Thanks Joe.”

“Very welcome,” he sighs, letting go of her wrist and walking over to the bed where he threw his jacket on earlier, “and the offer still stands.”

“The offer?”

“If you ever feel like you want,” Joe pauses as he zips up his jacket, “or _need_ to talk about Karlie, you know,” there’s a small shrug and in another, Karlie-less, life, she’d find it endearing, “I’m here for you.”

She closes the distance between them in three quick steps, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. He smells of shea and tobacco, a weird hybrid of him using her moisturiser when he can’t be bothered packing his own and the sneaky cigarettes he has when it’s just the two of them.

“What’s this?” He laughs softly as he wraps his arms around her waist, “You softie.”

“I appreciate you.” She mumbles into the fabric of his jacket, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be very bored.” Joe laughs, “Right, I’m gonna go.”

She lets go and flops down on the bed, giving Joe a small wave as he grabs a key card and walks towards the door. A moment later, he’s gone, and she can faintly hear his footsteps down the hallway of the hotel. Maybe a quick nap would help. _You can’t have a nap; you are in goddamn _Paris_. Paris never sleeps so neither should you._ She sighs and closes her eyes.

\---

_“Tell me something nobody knows.”_

_It was a lazy evening in 23 Cornelia Street. Taylor had made pasta and opened a bottle of wine and Karlie had let her take the lead, happy neither of them were rushed off their feet with work commitments. In the end, they’d settled on the sofa, Grey’s Anatomy reruns playing in the background. Karlie had gestured for Taylor to sit between her legs as they half watched the show, and Taylor had happily obliged. Now, resting against Karlie’s front, she sipped from her glass of wine slowly, her fingers running over the top of Karlie’s leg absentmindedly._

_“I’ve not had much privacy the past decade, Karls,” The shorter woman laughed, “not sure if there’s anything worthwhile left.”_

_“Literally anything.” Karlie pressed her lips against the side of her head gently._

_Taylor watched Christina Yang shout as she stormed through a hospital hallway and slowly started to become very aware her heart was racing. Karlie’s hand on her arm suddenly felt like it was burning and now she came to think of it, she felt _way_ too warm in general. Her mind started racing - she could tell Karlie about Tommy, the kid she’d pushed off a swing in third grade and then swore to god had not touched, she could tell her about how she was not really into guitars at first but saw it as a necessary evil to get her song writing done and she’d grown to love it. There were plenty of small things nobody knew that she could tell Karlie, there were more than she could possibly share in a week with the model._

_“You’re the first person I’ve been in love with.”_

_Behind her, Karlie froze. The TV went into an ad break and Taylor felt grateful for the fact she was not facing the model. Karlie had stopped running her fingers over her bare arm and Taylor dreaded having to break the silence or turning around to look at her. Luckily -or not- Karlie was the first to make a move. She felt the younger woman put her hands on her sides and push her off gently._

_“What?”_

_Karlie had never sounded this taken back, this curious or this careful. Taylor turned around to face her and decided to go with a blasé approach, taking another sip of her drink and shrugging._

_“You’re the first person I’m in love with,” She dared to look up, “that’s no big deal, right?”_

_“That’s,” Karlie paused, “you’ve never said that before.”_

_“I know,” Taylor laughed, “you did ask me to say something nobody knew.”_

_“No, I mean,” the blonde swallowed, then gestured, “you’ve never said you’re in love with me before.”_

_“I must have.” Taylor suddenly felt panic surge, “I definitely have told you.”_

_“No, you say you _love_ me. You have never said, to my face, that you’re in love with me.”_

_“Technically I didn’t quite say it to your face so,” the singer swallowed, “anyway.”_

_Karlie leant in, taking the glass out of her hand and putting it down on the floor before leaning in further and forcing Taylor to lay back. The older woman obliged and laid down, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth as Karlie followed suit, laying between her legs as she kept herself up on her elbows._

_“Is there a reason why you’re planking on top of me?” Taylor joked, hoping to somehow shift the tension somewhat, “Literally _what_ are you doing?”_

_“Say it again,” Karlie ignored her, her voice soft as ever, “please.”_

_For a second she wanted to be sassy. Then she realised Karlie was looking at her _differently_ than she had before, and any idea to be sarcastic immediately went out the window. There's an earnest look in Karlie's eyes and Taylor feels enamoured._

_“I’m in love with you, Karlie.” She whispered._

_It was a miracle Karlie even heard her say it. For a brief moment, there was a hint of a smile but then Karlie lowered her weight on top of her and kissed her and Taylor thought she could drown in that very moment. She wrapped her arms around the younger woman’s neck and Karlie moved her knee to nudge the singer’s legs wider apart and whatever sound Taylor made as a consequence was enough to make Karlie pull back._

_“I’m in love with you,” Karlie breathed against her lips, “so fucking much,” The blonde reached down to hike Taylor’s leg up her side, then slid her hand in between their bodies, “always, Taylor.”_

_\---_

“Taylor.”

She feels somewhat groggy when she opens her eyes. Joe’s looking at her quizzically, holding up a small paper bag.

“Croissant?”

“How long have I been asleep for?” She mumbles. “Did I ruin our walk plans?”

“Few hours,” Joe gets up from the bed, “no biggie - still plenty of time. Get dressed and we’ll get going, it’s only two in the afternoon, we can take our time and just pick whatever spot we fancy for dinner. Sounds good?” He waits until she nods, “Cool. Did you say you want this croissant, babe?”

“No, not really hungry.” Taylor stretches, “You have it.”

She starts going through one of the suitcases as Joe walks over to the windows. From her peripheric, she can see him move the curtains a bit and glance down at the street below them, pondering as he takes another big bite from the flaky pastry.

“What’s going on?” She asks, grabbing a pair of jeans and a rainbow sweatshirt out of the suitcase, “You seem pensive.”

“There’s like a dozen paparazzi outside.” Joe looks at her, “How did they even know we were going to stay here?”

“The hotel will have tipped them off.”

“Do you still want to go?”

_Do I?_ She thinks for a second, then pulls the sweater over her head defiantly.

“Yeah. If I stayed in every time there were paps around, I’d never leave the house. Grab the caps and the sunglasses, I’m gonna put some make up on and we’re going.”

Fifteen minutes later, they are walking down the Seine, Sam and two other security men trailing behind. Despite her initial eagerness to brave the paparazzi out front, Taylor decided to sneak out of the side entrance of the hotel, much to Joe’s delight. Despite it being spring, there wasn’t too much foot traffic yet, and Joe automatically turned into the tour guide, pointing out different sights.

“There’s the Notre Dame,” he points to the right, “see? Still smouldering a bit.”

“It’s been six weeks,” Taylor squints, “surely it’s no longer on _fire_.”

“You really need to get your eyes done at some point,” the Brit laughs, “do you want some water?” Without waiting for a response, he hands her a bottle from his crossbody bag, something Taylor finds both strange and endearing at the same time.

“Can’t believe you brought that thing.”

“It’s practical,” he shrugs, “I don’t give a shit what people might think.”

She watches him look over the river as he takes a few sips from his own bottle. There’s something about him she really likes, although it’s been over a year in the making and she still cannot pinpoint what it might be. He’s good company though, and she instinctively moves to stand closer to him.

“There’s this place called Café de Flore,” he turns to look at her, “best coffee in Paris. Wanna check that out? It’s like five minutes away.”

“Sure,” she nudges his hip, “could probably use that caffeine.” It’s when they turn around that she notices a flash from the other bank of the river. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

“Took them a while.” Joe grins, “Anyway, let’s go.”

“I don’t get how they got us this fast,” Taylor adjusts her cap, “we are totally incognito. Jeans, sunglasses, baseball caps -”

“You’re wearing a rainbow sweater.” Joe states drily, “Not exactly inconspicuous, love. It’s like you _want_ to be obvious.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He immediately notices his joke fell flat. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him as they walk.

“Nothing, lame joke,” he soothes, “here one comes, time to turn on the _charm_.”

By the time the paparazzi drive past, Joe’s pressing his lips against the side of her cap, pulling her even closer than before. She laughs when he deliberately says something funny, then laughs even harder when he points out the only way that he can get her to laugh is if there’s paparazzi around. She can only imagine the headlines tomorrow. _Taylor Swift and boyfriend caught on romantic stroll in Paris._ Or worse.

“There it is,” Joe puts his arm down as they get closer to the café, “give me your hand.”

There are more flashes from behind a car when they cross the street. Joe keeps a tight grip on her hand, and she squeezes back, grateful for him to be proactive in situations like these. When they get onto the terrace of the small café, they sit down and watch their security walk over to the paparazzi.

“Think they’ve got their money shot yet?” Joe takes his sunglasses off, “Cause if not, I’ll just kiss you or something, they’ll leave afterwards.”

“They _never_ leave.” Taylor grins, “You know they don’t.”

“Can’t a man want to _kiss his girlfriend_?” He says, louder than necessary, winking at her, “Anyway, do you want your usual?” She nods, “Great. _Excusez-moi, mademoiselle_!”

She listens in amusement when the waitress takes their order, Joe trying hard to come out with some decent-sounding French. Taylor remembers something about him taking his GSCEs and doing French, and from what she can tell, he’s remembered at least some of it. The waitress finishes jotting stuff down on her notepad and glances over at her and Taylor hopes the girl can’t recognise her behind sunglasses and caps. Joe takes off his NY cap and runs a hand through his hair and she can literally see the French girl’s penny drop.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.” She smiles, “Bonjour, hi!”

She’s grateful that Sam has shooed the paparazzi away because the last thing she needs is more pictures of her taking pictures with fans, especially when they are the entire staff of a café in central Paris. Joe watches her pose with all eight of them, then a few other café-goers, even suggests he takes their picture. When their coffees arrive, there’s additional pastries and no bill. There are a few moments of arguing and insisting but in the end, Taylor caves, signing a few more coasters and taking a picture with the café’s owner before the calm returns and it’s just Joe and her again.

“You are good at being you,” he points out, taking a sip of his coffee, “you’re likeable.”

“And you are good at complimenting me.”

“It’s what I do, baby,” the blonde man grins, “You know what else I’m good at?” He waits for a short pause, “Advice.” The jokey tone is immediately nowhere to find. Taylor stirs her coffee gently, trying to avoid having to look at the Brit.

“Joe -”

“Look,” he interrupts her gently, “this is all fine. You do _not_ have to worry about me. I know where I stand and I’m good with that. I get on with you, you’re great, my career is doing well, I get to have the perks and there’s pretty much no pressure on me whatsoever. I don’t mind any of this,” he continues, “but I know that when I’m in bed in Beverly Hills, you sit near the window and you write. And when we’re in Tribeca and I fall asleep, you write. You write a _lot_, Taylor.”

“That is sort of my job, I’m not sure what you want me to say here.”

“What I’m saying is,” Joe doesn’t skip a beat, “is that you should consider what you are doing. You are very good at being likeable and quirky, you are _beyond_ talented, I’ll even go so far to say you are great at Easter eggs and what not, but you’re not very subtle when it comes to certain stuff.” Joe pauses briefly, “I’m not going to say it because you are obviously not ready to talk to me about it, but I don’t think this is healthy.”

“I am fine.” Taylor mumbles, “Really, I am sorry if I -”

“Don’t apologise, you have nothing to apologise for.” Joe frowns, leaning forward and reaching his hand across the table to grab hers, “You don’t have to worry about _me_. Do you understand?” He remains silent until she nods weakly, “I love you. I’m going to be here in any way, in any capacity you need me to be here for you, okay?”

There’s another flash from across the street and Taylor instinctively tries to pull her hand back. Joe sighs, holding on.

“Listen,” he runs his thumb over hers gently, “when you go back to NYC, call her.” Blue eyes meet blue as she looks up, “And for the love of God, let them get their money shot so they can piss off.” He grins like a devil, “Smile, darling, we’re in the city of lovers, after all.”

“I won’t forget this, Joe,” she squeezes his hand gently, “thanks.”

When she turns to face the photographers across the road, she actually smiles. Maybe amongst the madness of it all, Joe is her best ally. Her mind drifts to being back in NYC next week, and what Joe has just told her. _Fuck it._

She is going to hash it out with Karlie once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, votes & messages - I appreciate you all for showing this story (& me) this much love after all these months. Cheeky little update for you all. Brace yourself for the next chapter, lucky number thirteen.
> 
> Find me on WattPad/Twitter: @GetMeDietCoke


	13. Chapter XIII - This Is Me Trying

_June 6, 2019_

_“Hello?”_

“Oh _hey_,” she tries to sound cheery, “I know this is super random, but I was just sitting here in New York by myself and got really bored and thought,” she paused, “how is Cara Delevingne doing, you know?”

_“Swimmingly, darling. I’m in Los Angeles at the moment for a shoot, doing really great. How have you been? How was Paris?”_

“Paris was,” Taylor tries to pick the right word, “nice? It was very Paris. Um,” another pause, “Cara, can I ask you something really weird?”

_“Sure?”_

“Have you heard from Karlie lately?”

_“Kloss?”_ Cara sounds surprised, _“A few days ago, I think. Didn’t chat for long because she had an investors’ meeting for that cookie bar thing.”_

“She’s in New York?”

_“Yes? Probably? Why don’t you just text her?”_ Cara asks, and Taylor curses herself for not being able to respond before the model’s penny drops, _“Oh. What happened now?”_

“Nothing _happened_,” Taylor immediately hates how defensive she sounds, “I just bumped into her last month for the first time this year and things got a bit awkward.”

_“It’s bound to be awkward, init.”_

“I don’t _want_ it to be awkward.” Taylor mumbles, “I just want us to be friends.”

_“Darling, do you genuinely think that’s going to happen? Like, ever?”_ Cara sounds both amused and worried, _“I love you both, but I don’t think I have seen you two in the same room in the past three years, so -”_

“I saw her the night of her bachelorette party,” Taylor objects softly, “that was last summer.”

_“Yes, fine, okay.”_ Cara inhales sharply, _“Forgot she went to Nashville to celebrate her _wedding-to-be_ and you did your Dress song and she recorded it and sent it to all of us.”_ There’s another pause, _“See what I mean? Awkward. You two are just infuriating.”_

“And I’m trying to get to a place where we can actually be in the same room again.” Taylor counters, “I’m _trying_, Cara. This is me trying. If I could actually get a hold of her and talk to her face to face, I think we could probably be civil with each other.”

_“Cool, right, I’m gonna call her right now in this call, and I’m going to go do my shoot.”_

“What?” Taylor feels panic surging, “No, don’t do that, that’s -”

_“Too late, doing it.” _The Brit interrupts her, _“Oh, there we go. Hi Karls!”_

_“Cara? Hi? What’s -”_

_“Listen babe, I’m about to do a shoot but I have Taylor on the line so you two talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes, yeah? I’ll be back in a tick.”_

_“Taylor?”_ Karlie sounds equally panicked, _“Hold on -”_

_“Bye darlings, duty calls, bye!”_

Silence. Palpable, tense silence. There’s a lump in her throat and she would very much like to clear it but it would be too loud - wherever Karlie is, it’s quiet. Taylor settles for stretching her arm holding the phone away from her and exhaling slowly before initiating a conversation.

“Hi.”

Ground-breaking.

_“Hey Taylor.”_

“Hey,” she echoes, “I have been trying to reach you quite a few times in the past weeks but you seem to,” Taylor pauses, contemplating her words, “miss my calls. Or my texts probably get lost between all the texts you must get, or -”

_“Or I didn’t want to talk to you.”_

“Or that,” she mumbles, stunned by Karlie’s atypical bluntness, “and I understand that you are annoyed at how we left things, I just - I panicked, I guess.”

_“You panicked because I listened to a song you knew full well I would know what it was about. And you threw me out of your flat. I think,”_ Karlie pauses now too, _“You owe me an apology.”_

“Yes,” Taylor finds herself nodding in agreement, “yeah, that is fair. Are you in New York?”

_“I live here pretty much full-time, Taylor.”_

The irony of the statement doesn’t elude Taylor. If Karlie keeps _that_ in mind, she’s going to be in even more trouble when the model listens to the other tracks. Trying to tackle one problem at a time, she chooses to brush over it.

“My place at three?”

_“Sure.”_ Karlie sighs, _“I’m gonna hang up now because I don’t trust Delevingne actually not being in on this call, you know what she’s like.”_

Cara, Taylor knows, is a bit of a loose cannon but in this moment, she’s grateful for the wide-eyed Brit with her rash decisions and snappy remarks. She says goodbye to Karlie and looks up at the antique clock above the fireplace. With two hours to go, she may as well get ready for Karlie to visit her for a second time in under a month. _Progress._

* * *

Karlie enters the flat less enthusiastically as she did weeks prior, but she still gives Taylor a one-armed hug and still mumbles a soft thank you as the singer puts her coat away. When Taylor walks back over to her, Karlie’s picked up Benjamin, scratching behind his ear with her face fully nestled in his neck.

“He got even softer.” Karlie looks up at her, “Do the girls like him?”

“Mer hates him. Dibbles would hate him if she realised we all think he’s the cutest.”

“Don’t say that,” the younger woman smirks, “Dibbles is my forever queen. Right,” she says, putting Benjamin down much to his dismay, “I’m gonna go find her instead.”

“Do you want a drink or something?”

“Whatever you are having.”

Taylor almost feels annoyed at how _normal_ this feels. If anyone were to watch Karlie walk through the flat, opening the coffee table drawer where Taylor holds, amongst a lot of trinkets, a laser pointer, and laugh at Olivia Benson trying to chase it, nobody would assume their relationship was strained. Nobody would know they had a scene a few weeks back. Nobody in their right mind would think they had barely spent a week in total over the past two years. _Nobody would know._ The thought -and its possibilities- terrify her. Keeping the conversation with Joe in mind, she is tempted to grab one of the bottles of white wine in the fridge but settles for Fiji instead - overpriced as hell but Karlie liked it so despite her personal dismay, Taylor had put it on the household must-have-at-all-times list when she found out.

And now she had the chance to offer it for the first time.

“Thanks,” Karlie says gently as Taylor hands her a glass, “so…”

“So,” Taylor echoes, “I’m sorry for the way I reacted last time you were here. I just didn’t really expect you to listen to the songs and then when you did, and you said what you said, I just panicked. I'm sorry.”

“Why?” Karlie’s green eyes remain focussed on her, “Because what I said was right?”

“Well,” Taylor grabs her glass to take a sip, hoping to stall as long as possible, “maybe _some_ of these songs are _slightly_ resemblant to situations you might remember.”

“This is worse than talking to Tree,” Karlie sighs, “right - how many songs on this album, how many are about me?”

“Eighteen,” Taylor tries to avoid Karlie’s gaze, “and like, maybe, I don’t know, seven? Eight?”

“Okay.” The younger woman pauses, “Do I have to worry about any of those?”

“Worry?”

“Is it obvious?” Karlie shifts on the sofa, “Like, do I - do I need to take into account press is going to try and get my commentary on any of these? That kind of obvious.”

“I don’t _think_ so. I never say who the songs are about, and I always stay vague so I’m not sure whether anyone could actually _prove_ anything, so.”

“When is it gonna be released?”

“Late August,” Taylor almost sighs in relief when Karlie doesn’t probe, “23rd, I think.”

“Can I listen to them? Before then, I mean.” Karlie sighs, “I just want to, you know. I didn’t get to listen to Reputation in advance and that was a bit,” their eyes meet from across the room, “I’d like to be prepared, is all.”

“I can’t give you the recordings,” Taylor mumbles, “Tree would kill me if this album leaked.”

“Because I would leak it?” The model sounds offended, “Really?”

“No, of course not, it’s not that, I just don’t want to take any risks. If I let you take it home, and Tree asks where it is and I can’t show it, I’m going to have to say I gave it to you and it’s just going to be a whole thing.” Taylor tries to explain, “Like I even sent a messenger with a voice note to Ed at one point, you know what I’m like about album secrecy.” She glances over at the blonde, who’s doing her best to not look at her now, “If you want to listen to it, it’ll have to be here.”

Part of her hopes that Karlie will burst out laughing. Say something along the lines that it would be way too awkward, or thank her for the offer but no, or ask her to summarise it instead. She could paraphrase it, surely.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’d like to listen to it,” Karlie says, not a shred of doubt in her voice, “right now.”

“If you’re sure.” _Please don’t be sure._

“I’m sure.” _Fuck._

“Right, let me set it up really quick.”

* * *

_“Are you sure?”_

_If she hadn’t been sure before, the fact Karlie is smiling ear-to-ear would have convinced her._

_“Yeah, I’d like it if you could give me your unbiased opinion,” Taylor grinned, “because the only people that have heard 1989 so far are the people who worked on it and they are pretty much obligated to say it’s the best thing they’ve ever heard in their life, otherwise I fire them.”_

_“You do not,” Karlie nudged her, “you’re way too sweet to fire anyone. Right, hit play, I want to _immerse_ myself in the glory of these songs straight away.”_

_“You’ll have to sign something first,” Taylor grimaced, “I promised Tree that I would let anyone who listened to it before the release, sign an NDA.”_

_“Seriously?” The younger girl frowned, “Did everyone do that?”_

_“You’re the first person to hear it,” Taylor tried to sound blasé, “you’re also going to have to wear earphones because you know, better safe than sorry.”_

_“You are adorable. Where do I sign?”_

_Karlie scribbled her signature on the dotted line without so much as looking at any of the clauses. Taylor ignored the fact her cheek burnt when Karlie pressed her lips against them swiftly before snatching the earphones out of her hand. Seconds later, Taylor watched Karlie bop her head, looking over the beach at Big Sur before looking back at her._

_“Can I sing along out loud or is that forbidden by the NDA?” Karlie asked, louder than usual, “I didn’t really read it!”_

_Taylor smirked and reached over, taking one of the earphones out of Karlie’s ear._

_“You’re shouting,” she grinned, “and sure, you can sing along if you want.”_

_“I’m _so_ glad you didn’t move to London,” Karlie shook her head, “London, can you believe it? You better stay in New York forever and ever.”_

_The younger girl popped her earphones back in and wrapped her arms around her knees, looking at the ocean and the sun slowly setting. Taylor tried her hardest to not look over at Karlie listening to the iPod with the songs, instead focussed on playing with the car keys. They sat in silence for over half an hour before Karlie took one of the earphones out and looked at her funnily._

_“What?”_

_“What’s this?” Karlie’s voice was barely a whisper, “Is it about me?”_

_Seconds later, the earphone was in her ear instead and she could hear herself sing the lyrics to You Are In Love. Thoughts raced through her head, she could stick with the story of it being about Jack and Lena. She could lie. She should lie. She should do anything to break the silence. Instead, she gave the younger girl the smallest of nods._

_“I love it.” Karlie continued, “I love you.”_

_For once, she let go of her fears and her ghosts, and kissed Karlie._

_* * *_

“I’m just going to get some emails done while you listen to it, if that’s okay.” Taylor tries to play it cool, “Just because I’m hitting pre-release promo time and otherwise I’m just going to stare at you listening and that’s just weird.”

“Okay,” Karlie smiles, and it seems genuine enough, “just ignore me, I’m not here. I’m just gonna sit on the floor while I listen,” she continues, “to stay grounded.”

She cannot help but grunt at the pun, which makes Karlie laugh. Immediately, Taylor shakes her head and hands Karlie her noise-cancelling headphones, a slight upgrade from earphones she gave her years ago. _At least I won’t have to listen this time._ Moments later, she grabs her Mac and sits down on the sofa opposite Karlie, trying to not glance over the top of her screen every few seconds.

She doesn’t know how long she’s responding to emails for but when she finally looks over her screen at Karlie, she knows it’s been about an hour because the blonde is just staring at her. Even from where she’s sitting, she can tell _something_ is off. The Mac gets tossed onto the sofa cushions and she walks over to the younger girl, getting down on the floor with her.

The audio system shows _Daylight_ as the track being played and almost immediately the regret of abandoning the safe sofa in favour of sitting on the floor right next to Karlie sets in. She keeps her eyes trained on the display until the track stops playing and she’s brave enough to look up at Karlie.

Karlie, who’s managed to sit through the entire album without saying a single word. Karlie, who’s now looking at her emotionless. Karlie, who’s now silently crying in front of her without Taylor daring to reach out and wipe her cheeks.

“That one?” Karlie’s voice is merely a whisper.

Taylor can only nod, the meaning of the gesture implying the answer. Karlie sobs, just once, before trying to regain her composure. Taylor feels the panic surge, again. What the hell does she do? She can’t just comfort Karlie - would Karlie _want_ that?

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Taylor is quick to say, “it’s all good. You wanted to listen, you have now listened, you’re all good. See?” In an obscene display of bravery, she reaches out and swipes her thumb under Karlie’s eye a few times, “All better.”

“You don’t understand,” Karlie’s voice shakes, “I came here because of this but also because I had to say something, but now I think I probably shouldn’t.”

“No, go ahead,” the singer urges, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, “go on, what were you gonna say?”

Karlie groans and reaches over for her backpack -still too small, still impractical- and pulls out an envelope. It’s white, with a golden border and Taylor immediately realises what it is. It may as well have been a funeral invitation; only it isn’t. _Ms. Taylor Alison Swift_. She almost automatically accepts the envelope when Karlie hands it to her. The paper feels luxurious and thick and _of course_ it would, of course it would be. The wedding invitation of all wedding invitations. The big second wedding with friends. _The big one._

“I can’t make it.” Taylor hears herself say, “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t know whether she is even blinking when she says it, but she can tell Karlie looks sad. For a brief moment of reprise, she feels lucky that she hasn’t had her eye surgery yet and decided against glasses when Karlie agreed to come over. The fact she can’t see Karlie sharp right now is probably the only thing that keeps her from falling apart.

“You don’t even know the date,” Karlie sounds hurt, and it makes it all even worse, “you haven’t opened the envelope yet.”

“I,” Taylor inhales sharply, “can’t make it. I am very sorry. I’ll make sure to check the wedding registry and,” she pauses, “yeah.”

Karlie nods and Taylor hopes, prays she understands. _She has to understand. _She’s not sure why Karlie would even extend an invitation, surely, _surely,_ she knows she wouldn’t go. Taylor would, of course, go through the wedding registry and buy something that was expensive and blatantly Karlie, she had to. But Karlie is nodding, rapidly, and Taylor nods back, reaching out to get hold of the girl’s hand. She manages to grab the one without the ring from the _first_ wedding. She glances down, Karlie’s slender fingers intertwined with her own, albeit less scarred.

Karlie’s the first to break, smiling between tears. Taylor follows suit. Taylor’s thumb gently brushes over Karlie’s wrist, a small force of a habit she hasn’t yet managed to shake.

“C’mere.” Taylor whispers.

The younger girl seems relieved when Taylor pulls her in for a hug. Karlie is eager to lean into Taylor when she wraps her arms around the singer. Taylor swallows back the lump in the back of her throat and presses her lips against the side of Karlie’s head. When Karlie squeezes her tighter in response and she pulls back a bit, she contemplates kissing Karlie. _Just one more time._ Her eyes flicker between green eyes and red lips for just a second.

“I need to go,” the model clears her throat, “is there something I need to sign?”

“Wha?”

“NDAs,” Karlie runs the same fingers that were intertwined with Taylors moments ago, through her hair, “so I won’t leak,” she pauses, “what is the name?”

“Lover.”

“Oh.” Karlie presses her lips together, “Tay, I have to go.”

Taylor nods, not bothering to get up as Karlie bolts for the door. As soon as the model’s left, Taylor shoves the envelope into the trinket drawer. _You need to calm down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed my Twitter handle to be less conspicuous.  
You'll still find me - if all else fails, tag #daylightthefic and I'll find you.  
How mysterious.


	14. Chapter XIV - Fearless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Single asterisk - time jump.  
Three asterisks/italics - flashback.
> 
> Thanks for all the love you've been showing this fic. I appreciate you a lot. Thoughts to share? Twitter: #daylightthefic or say hi in the comments!

_June 14, 2019_

“Did you know you are supposed to peel bananas from the bottom?”

“What?” She asks even though she is focussed on her Instagram feed instead.

“Bananas,” Joe repeats, “you’re supposed to peel them from the bottom.”

“Revolutionary,” she murmurs, getting up and walking over to the kitchen island where Tree is sitting, looking even more frantic than she is, “have you got anything to say on banana peeling?”

If looks could kill, she’d be headed for a morgue right now. Tree simply looks up at her and then immediately looks back at her screen.

“There have been seven media outlets so far that got in touch over the pro-LGBT angle of this. Several others have pointed out you are choosing to pick sides politically so that’s another thing to deal with. So far, it’s all looking good, people like it -”

“Why wouldn’t they like it,” Taylor leans her elbows on the cool marble, “it’s 2019, it should not be that controversial for someone to say they want queer people to have the same rights as heterosexuals.”

“Queer,” Tree echoes, “how _very_ politically correct of you.”

“That’s the term,” Taylor shrugs, “make sure to use it if you put statements out.” She lazily picks a grape of the bunch in the fruit bowl, “When do you think it’s going to start being hectic?”

“Probably when the video drops.” Tree says whilst typing an email, “It’s in three hours, so you’ve got time. Prepare for a media barrage of sorts, the hype about this video is massive after Lover. We’ll just do the usual, hype it up, get some more clout for the album release.”

“Hate that word.”

“We _all_ hate that word, but it works,” Tree sighs, “what do I say about the political angle? I have spoken to marketing and they agree it’s all a very good foundation to establish you as political now before we introduce the Miss Americana documentary next year, but six months in advance might be…” the redhead raps her fingers on the table, “early.”

“I’d rather not talk about the personal struggles until the documentary is out because my dad is not going to love that idea,” Taylor sighs, looking over to Joe who’s scrolling on his phone, “maybe float an idea I have just taken an interest in general because of what’s been in the news?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in Europe.”

“There’s politics in Europe too,” Taylor walks around the kitchen island and grabs a glass from one of the cupboards, before opening the fridge, “and Joe was basically glued to the TV when that entire House of Commons thing happened in the UK, so I caught quite a bit of that.”

Tree looks at her dumbfounded.

“There was a vote of no confidence in Theresa May,” Taylor tries, “the entire country is angry about Brexit and austerity so now the Tories have new elections for a new party leader, who will then be PM, and it’s just -”

“Better not be Johnson!” Joe pipes up from the background, “Tory scum.”

“Better not be Johnson.” Taylor echoes with a smile, “Just say something along the lines of me realising a lot of people are struggling this year and a lot of it is down to austerity and corrupt decisions and just trying to make the gap bigger between social classes.”

“Unbelievable.” Tree grins, “Right, I’ll come up with something.”

“Woman rights are human rights,” Taylor quotes a Hillary Clinton address, “the same should be true for queer rights.”

*

Three hours later, the texts start coming in. Despite the fact they are all beyond positive, Taylor finds herself struggling to explain to her own friends why she suddenly has had a change of heart in keeping it _neutral_. When Selena FaceTimes her, she does pick up but avoids giving her friend a straight answer. Abigail congratulates her and she temporarily relaxes, as her favourite redhead just points out things she likes about the video.

There are messages from former collaborators. There are excited voice notes from people who are in the music video, and she does her best to follow the hashtag on her social media but it’s an avalanche of constant praise, to the point her phone won’t even refresh the feed.

The models amongst her friends text her to congratulate her as well, although there’s one obvious absence. Congratulations and praise keep trickling in, but her phone never launches into the familiar haptics. It’s around nine in the evening when she decides she should stop waiting for Karlie Kloss to text her. She’d hoped it, of course, trying to gauge a reaction from the blonde. _Nothing_.

“You seem wound up.” Joe sits next to her on the sofa, “You good?”

“Just a hectic day,” she blindly pats his thigh, “I’ll be fine. Not looking forward to flying across the country tonight.”

“Why don’t you have a smoke with me?” He suggests, “I’m not saying it will fix anything, but a bit of weed might actually chill you out enough to calm down.”

“That is the worst idea you’ve ever pitched,” Taylor opens her eyes and glances over at him before staring at the ceiling, “I tried it a few times and it’s never ended well.”

“You are a lightweight,” he nudges her, “drink instead?”

“Just one.” She forces a smile, “Whiskey on ice please.”

*

When she finishes her drink and puts her glass down, she notices Joe looks _worried_. And that in itself, she realises, is a massive issue because the level-headed Brit never seems to be rattled by anything. She also notices that she can’t really see the blonde man in too much detail.

“This is an issue.” Joe declares, looking down at her on the sofa, “How many did you have while I was in that conference call?”

“Like two?” She squints, trying to get her vision to become less blurry, “It’s fine.”

“It’s not _fine_,” Joe purses his lips together, “Tree is going to kill me.”

“Tree is not going to do anything, just relax.”

“You cannot fly like this,” Joe continues, ignoring her entirely, “there is no way they are going to allow you on the jet like this.”

“It’s _my_ jet, nobody is going to give a single fuck.”

“Please,” Joe squats down, trying to get on Taylor’s eye level, “will you try and have a nap? It’s ten, just try to get an hour’s sleep or something, I’ll get one of the assistants to pick up food from somewhere, you can have that when you wake up and then _hopefully_ you’ll be fine in time for the flight.” He pauses, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Please?”

“Fine,” Taylor sighs, “just to get you off my back.”

“Want a blanket or do you wanna go to bed for a bit?”

“I’m _fine_,” she mumbles as she stands up from the sofa, swatting his arm away when she wobbles, “I’ll just sleep it off, it’s only three whiskeys.”

“Thought you said two.” Joe replies drily, grabbing her elbow and guiding her to the stairs nevertheless, “Step.”

“That’s what I meant, two.” She frowns, “It looks worse than it is, I’m not _drunk_, I just go from zero to a wizard in like -”

“Obviously in less than two drinks.”

“It’s because I didn’t have food.”

“That’s another thing,” Joe sighs when they get to the top of the stairs and walk down the hall toward the main bedroom, “I can’t remember the last time I saw you eat something. You are eating, right?” He pushes the door open and waits for her to walk into the room before repeating himself, “Right?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t push further and she’s relieved that he lets it slide, although the way he inhales deeply and doesn’t follow up with anything else is a tell-tale sign he knows she’s not being entirely truthful. _Not that it matters._ She kicks off her flats and haphazardly pulls some pillows onto the floor.

“Here,” Joe pulls back the corner of the sheets, “get in.”

“I can’t, I’m fully dressed,” she murmurs, “I can’t have outside clothes in my bed, you know this.”

“You’re not sleeping in it after this nap,” Joe reasons, “it’ll have clean sheets on it by the time you get back here, just relax.”

“M’kay.”

She’s faintly aware of Joe leaving the room before she dozes off.

* * *

_“Karlie,” she laughed when she walked into the kitchen of her own penthouse which had been turned into something that resembled an explosion, “what the hell?”_

_“Oh shit, you’re back already.”_

_She put her bag down whilst Karlie frantically started wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing; one Taylor had bought from a high-end range because of the pockets and which Karlie had immediately claimed as her own a few weeks prior. They’d compromised and decided it would be a _communal_ apron, but Taylor had not worn it once since she’d unpacked it. Karlie, on the other hand, had worn it every single time she’d made food at Taylor’s._

_“How did you even get in here?” Taylor asked, taking her coat off and briefly turning to one of the security guards who’d brought in the rest of her bags, “Thanks Simon.”_

_“You gave me a key.” Karlie frowned, leaning back against the counter and obviously waiting for Taylor to walk over to her._

_“I gave you a key for emergencies.”_

_“This _was_ an emergency, I’ll have you know,” Karlie smiled, watching Taylor finally make her way over to her, “a big emergency.”_

_“Oh _no_,” Taylor grinned, slipping her arms around Karlie’s waist and pecking her on the lips gently, “What was it this time? Did the oven break down? Lost the key to your own apartment?”_

_“That would be a tragedy,” the model said drily, “because my place is decorated way better than this one.”_

_“Hey,” Taylor slapped her arm gently, “can’t help it I have a more refined taste than you with all of your modern nonsense.”_

_“_Anyway_,” Karlie continued, “I realised I had not seen you in over four days, and I saw you do that live performance on Ryan and Kelly and I thought I’d be nice and cook you dinner because you don’t look like you’re eating properly.”_

_Taylor felt a familiar pang of guilt. She immediately glossed over it by pressing a chaste kiss upon Karlie’s lips again, hoping it would be enough to get Karlie to forget about it._

_“You’re very sweet.” She said gently, “But you can also stop worrying, mom.”_

_“You do _not_ want to say that,” Karlie scrunched up her nose, “Because that is potentially going to ruin the mood for later.”_

_“Later?”_

_Taylor stepped back and walked over to the fridge. If Karlie was actually cooking instead of baking, she was going to need a drink to go with it._

_“I thought I could stay over tonight,” Karlie turned back to the stove, “Josh is out of the city this weekend and none of the girls seemed to have plans involving you, you didn’t mention anything about seeing your family this month so I thought,” she glanced at Taylor briefly, “I could cook us dinner and you’d let me stay over.”_

_“Sounds lovely,” Taylor smiled, grabbing a bottle of white wine, “are you drinking?”_

_“Just one.” Karlie grabbed a spoon to stir into one of the pots, “I used one of your bottles of red for this sauce by the way. The rest is over there.”_

_The fact Karlie had opened up one of the vintage bottles that had cost her over a hundred dollars didn’t quite sting as much as she thought it would when she watched Karlie try her hardest to actually make a proper dinner. She poured two glasses and walked around the kitchen island to give Karlie hers._

_“Here,” she said, putting the glass down next to an oven mitt, “what is that you’re making, anyway?”_

_“A mess,” Karlie didn’t miss a beat, “but also something with a red wine reduction. No idea what it’s supposed to look like to be honest.”_

_“Did you taste it?”_

_“I don’t know what it should taste like, either.” Karlie looked up at her mischievously, “Here, you tell me.”_

_Karlie dipped the spoon in and blew on it gently before holding it out to Taylor. With the slightest bit of reprehension, Taylor tried the smallest possible bit, only to be pleasantly surprised._

_“That’s actually quite nice.”_

_“Oh shit, is it?” Karlie gleamed, “I mean, don’t sound so surprised.” She immediately wiped her finger over the spoon and tasted it, grunting in approval. “Wow, that is really nice.” Karlie immediately wiped the spoon again, “Want more?”_

_She held her finger out and for a second, Taylor’s stomach cramped up even more. The singer reached out to grab Karlie’s wrist, not trusting the younger woman to not smear it on her face at the last minute, and quickly licked the sauce of the girl’s finger. Karlie watched her do it in amusement, slightly grinning._

_“Don’t let the rest of it burn.” Taylor laughed, pulling Karlie in closer and kissing her swiftly, “I’ll set the table.”_

_The fact Karlie’s dinner had been remarkably good had surprised both of them. When Taylor had offered to clear the table, Karlie had happily reached for the second bottle of wine and retreated to the living room, holding the bottle in one hand and their glasses in the other. By the time Taylor made her way back, Karlie had poured them both another drink and was gently stroking Olivia’s stomach while she dozed on one of the footrests._

_“Dibbles loves you so much.” Taylor pointed out, “I’m slightly concerned.”_

_“You have Meredith.”_

_“Meredith doesn’t like _anyone_,” Taylor grinned, cosying up on the sofa, “I still have that scar on my leg to prove it.”_

_“Well,” the younger woman got up, much to the Scottish Fold’s dismay, and walked over to the sofa, immediately straddling Taylor’s lap, “Good thing _I _like you then.”_

_“Very lucky.” Taylor murmured when Karlie pushed her back against the backrest and followed through, gently kissing the singer’s jaw._

_“Very,” Karlie breathed against Taylor’s skin, “then again,” she pulled back briefly looking into dark blue eyes, “so am I because look at you.”_

_“Stop it.” Taylor rolled her eyes, bringing her hands up to Karlie’s thighs._

_“Never.”_

_Karlie kissed her, hard. She squeezed the model’s thighs in response, only for Karlie to wrap her arms around her neck and shift in her lap. With all the strength she could muster, Taylor hooked her fingers through the belt loops of Karlie’s jeans and yanked her closer. It barely made a difference, but Karlie definitely caught onto her intentions._

_“If you want me closer, all you have to do is ask.” She breathed against Taylor’s mouth._

_“What’s the fun in that?”_

_“If _that_ is how you wanna play.” Karlie pulled back._

_Within seconds, Taylor witnessed Karlie stand up, reach for her legs and forcefully pull her lengthways onto the sofa before climbing back on top of her. Taylor was faintly aware of the cats scurrying away from their napping spots, obviously disturbed by the sudden flux of movements. Karlie grabbed her wrists and pinned them together above her head, looking down at her mischievously as she laid between Taylor’s legs, keeping just enough of her weight off of Taylor to let the girl breathe properly._

_“What do you want?” Karlie asked gently, ghosting Taylor’s lips with hers, “Tell me.”_

_“You know.”_

_“I don’t,” the model sighed dramatically, “I might not be clever enough to figure it out, but you know what I _am_ really good at, Taylor?” She continued, not waiting for a response, “Waiting. So, if you want me to lay here like this all night, I will.” She leant down and pressed her lips onto Taylor’s softly, “But if you tell me what you want, I can just do that instead.”_

_“Karlie…” Taylor swallowed, feeling her heartbeat so loudly she was sure Karlie could tell by just looking at her, “Please.”_

_“Please what,” the younger girl seemed unmoved, “what do you want?”_

_“You,” Taylor caved, arching her hips up in an attempt to relieve some of the want she was experiencing, “I want you.”_

_Almost immediately, Karlie let go of her wrists. She brought one arm down so she could rest on her elbows as the other hastily brushed Taylor’s hair aside, exposing her neck. Taylor moved one hand on top of Karlie’s near her neck as the other tangled into tousled hair. For a second, Karlie reached up and kissed her again. When she finally pulled back, Taylor immediately tried to lean up, but Karlie had already moved down her jaw._

_“Do you have a turtleneck here?” Karlie pressed her lips against the side of Taylor’s neck._

_“Yeah…” Taylor breathed with her eyes closed, the anticipation seeping through in her voice._

_“Good.” Karlie shifted slightly upwards and sucked down on sensitive skin, the slight pain causing Taylor to groan gently. “Hey,” Karlie breathed, “open your eyes."_

_Taylor managed for a second before Karlie's hand slipped lower down._

_* * *_

When she opens her eyes, it’s not Karlie’s green eyes focussed on hers but rather Joe’s blue ones. And for the second time in less than two hours, he looks _concerned_.

“Jesus,” he looks at her slightly worried, “maybe we should have taken some of your clothes off, you look feverish.”

Beneath the sheets, Taylor could feel how damn warm she’d got during the nap. With her heart beating in her throat and her skin uncomfortably warm, she sits up and looks at the Brit at the foot of the bed.

“Would you mind getting me some water?”

“Sure, be right back,” Joe gets up straight away, “Weird dream?”

“Something like that.” Taylor clears her throat, involuntarily running her fingers over the side of her neck, as if somehow the bruise she had dreamt Karlie giving her would have appeared.

_I’m so screwed._


	15. Chapter XV - You are in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 is almost over - thank God.  
As per usual, italics = flashback. Thanks for all the patience & love, I appreciate you all.

_June 20, 2019_

Wyoming.

She flattens out a crease she hasn’t noticed till now and shifts in the director’s chair someone set up for this interview while Tree is talking to one of the TV channel’s people. It’s a Thursday, famously known to be Tree’s favourite day for promotion and for the first time in a long while, Taylor _really_ could not give less of a fuck.

Wyoming.

She has been in Wyoming, of course. Saying it was in her top five of favourite states would be a lie. Saying it broke her top twenty-five would also be a lie. And with what’s happened now, she is pretty sure Wyoming would not make her top forty-nine. _Fucking Wyoming._ Tree mentions her name, so she briefly looks up to see the redhead smiling at her, pointing around the room and turning back to one of the techs who is feverishly making notes. Taylor suppresses a sigh, already over the heat from the studio lights and the scratchy materials of the chair that is rubbing against her thighs each time she moves.

Wyoming.

She remembers vividly how her high school career was cut short by her current career, and how Andrea had quickly swapped Hendersonville’s teachers by a tutor who followed her around everywhere she went. She can’t remember his name, but she knows that he had some sort of obsession with the state of Wyoming. It had even got to the point that, when she finally performed there, she had about a dozen of factoids about Wyoming to share with the crowd. Crowds love feeling individual and Taylor had learnt all about exceptionalism and praise on that country festival podium in Cheyenne.

Wyoming.

Did you know the name stems from a native American word? Did you know it has six bordering states? Did you know it houses Yellowstone, the national park? Did you know it was the first state to grant women the right to vote? Did you know it was the first state with a female governor? Did you know Wyoming is the second happiest state of the United States? Did you know they call Wyoming the cowboy state?

Did you know Karlie Kloss got married there? Again?

She doesn’t think she’s ever been to Saratoga but there’s a note in her phone reminding her to veto ever having to go near wherever it is. There’s also a note keeping track of people she’s spotted in the few photos that have come out. When she was lurking on Instagram earlier, Joe had jokingly asked whether she was making a list of people to never talk to again. She’d laughed. Little did he know she planned on talking to each and every one of them, hoping to find out more details about a wedding she had refused to attend. The little details, like what wine did they have (Karlie likes dry whites), what music did they play (Karlie loves blues), how was the speech (Karlie can’t pronounce some words). Not the cliché questions like ‘did she look like the happiest girl in the world’.

The answer may be yes, and she can’t be having that.

“Taylor? You ready?”

Tree interrupts her train of thought, patiently waiting for her to snap back into it while the interviewer is adjusting his earpiece.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Her response is dry but Tree smirks, the interviewer chuckles, and Taylor gets ready for yet another interview. It’s the eighth one today, with a handful more to go. Tree has most definitely packed her entire day - part of her is grateful for the distraction, although she cannot help but wish today was a day where she could just stay in and be on her phone.

“Hi,” the interviewer extends his hand to her, “so lovely to meet you. I’m Josh.”

She feels like someone has punched her in the stomach almost instantly.

“Hey,” she tries to put up a professional front, shaking his hand and smiling, “I’m Taylor.”

\---

_“Your brother is a jerk.” Karlie announced, falling onto the sofa with a dramatic flair Taylor had come to love, “I’ll never not be amazed at the fact you two are related.”_

_“What did he do now?” Taylor sighed, closing her notebook and putting it aside so Karlie could stretch her legs onto her lap._

_“Well,” Karlie immediately took advantage of the free space in Taylor’s lap, stretching her legs and fighting back a smile as Taylor’s hands immediately rubber her calves gently, “apparently I don’t know shit about sports because I like the St. Louis Rams.”_

_“Basketball?” Taylor tried._

_“Football.” Karlie poked the singer’s arm with her toe gently, “Come on, you know this.”_

_“I have tours and setlists to plan, you cannot expect me to know the names of every state’s football team because you are such a nerd.”_

_“If you can list all the states in alphabetical order, you can make an effort for my greatest passion in life.” Karlie countered, pausing briefly, “Well, second biggest passion.”_

_“Uncharacteristically sweet of you.”_

_“My biggest passion being modelling, of course.” Karlie didn’t skip a beat._

_“Right, okay,” Taylor said in mock annoyance, “get off me.”_

_For a brief second, Taylor had the upper hand, pushing one of Karlie’s legs out of her lap and twisting her body to face the model. Next, without a shred of effort, Karlie pinned her down with the one leg and sat up, swiftly pushing herself up from the sofa and straddling the older woman. Taylor made a half-arsed attempt at fighting her off but within seconds, Karlie had effectively pinned her down beneath her._

_“You need to come to the gym with me more often because this was pathetic.”_

_“We can’t all excel physically,” Taylor replied drily, “please get off me.”_

_“I think your physique is great,” the younger girl pointed out, ignoring Taylor’s request entirely, “I have zero complaints.”_

_“Karlie,” the singer fought back a smile, “Austin is going to be back real soon, I’d rather not have him walk in on us like this. Get off me.”_

_“I’d rather get you off.”_

_“That is _it_,” Taylor grunted, “absolutely not.”_

_With Karlie’s laughter ringing in her ears, Taylor managed to shove Karlie off balance and push her aside, causing the younger girl to fall back next to her._

_“I can’t wait for him to go back to Los Angeles,” Karlie sighed in fake despair, “he’s shitting on my sports teams, he’s infringing on my quality time with you, I can’t sleep over because _he_ is sleeping over.” Another sigh. “Highly inconvenient.”_

_“Well, he’s my brother, you better get used to it,” the singer got up from the sofa, “it’s not like he’s gonna go anywhere.”_

_“Neither am I.” Karlie reached out and grabbed Taylor’s leg when she tried to walk past, “You know that, right?”_

_“Uh huh.”_

_“Hey,” the model jumped up, grabbing Taylor’s arm and turning her around to face her, “I’m serious. I’m not going anywhere,” green eyes flickered between Taylor’s own, “and despite the fact Austin is _really_ annoying, I like the guy.”_

_“He just likes to push people’s buttons,” Taylor wrapped her arms around Karlie’s waist, “he’s been doing it to me for years, annoying people is his love language.”_

_“It’s all good,” Karlie leant in closer, brushing her lips against Taylor’s gently, “I see Austin as my brother. Chosen families and all that.”_

_“Taff!”_

_At hearing Austin’s nickname for her, Taylor immediately let go of Karlie’s waist, taking a step back for good measure. For a second, the younger girl looked slightly disappointed, but immediately had her game face back on the second Austin walked into the living room._

_“Oh good, you’re here too.” He smirked at Karlie._

_“Hi Austin.”_

_“Did you know,” he turned to Taylor, “she is betting on the St. Louis Rams this season?” Austin smirked, “What a loser.”_

_“I _really_ am not the right person for this, you guys,” Taylor sighed, grabbing her notebook off the table, “You two get way too much into these sports games.”_

_“Because they are _fun_,” Karlie frowned, “tell her, Austin.”_

_“They are really fun, Taff,” the blue-eyed man grinned, “especially when you support teams that actually stand a chance of winning.”_

_“You don’t support a team that has a chance of winning, you _pick_ a team when you’re five and your dad is watching games, and then you stick with that team.” Karlie gesticulated, “St. Louis Rams.”_

_“Green Bay Packers, Karls.” Austin shook his head, “The Rams ain’t shit.”_

_“I never picked a team when dad was watching.” Taylor walked around the sofa._

_“Pick one now then.”_

_“Then will you both get off my case?”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Maybe.” Karlie grinned, “Depends on whether you are going to support the Rams.”_

_“Never,” Taylor said drily, “courtesy of a dumb name. Okay, I’ll go with the locals. From now on, I’ll support the, what is it, New York Knicks?”_

_Both Austin and Karlie went quiet, staring at her in disbelief._

_“What?”_

_“That’s the basketball team,” Karlie smiled, and Taylor could tell she was trying her hardest not to use any terms of endearment, “the football team is called New York Giants.”_

_“Hopeless.” Austin interjected, “You two are useless. I’m going to go see some friends, I’ll be back tonight.” He walked past Taylor, nudging her shoulder, “The Knicks, you are such an amateur, Taff.”_

_“Stop being such a bully.”_

_“Stop being such a loser.”_

_Karlie waited until the front door shut close before walking over to Taylor, cupping her face and kissing her gently._

_“The _Knicks_,” she whispered, “you are so cute.”_

_“I got the New York part of it; I don’t see what the big deal is. From now on, I’ll just support anything New York, alright?”_

_“I’m going to take you on a date,” Karlie said softly, “we’re gonna go see a Knicks game.”_

_“I can’t think of anything worse.”_

_“It’s nice,” Karlie continued, “I’ll come pick you up, we can go to the stadium, get some beers, sit courtside, I’ll explain the rules. It’d be cute.”_

_“You and me going to a Knicks game drinking beer,” Taylor laughed, “can you imagine the headlines, Karlie?”_

_“Model educates clueless best friend superstar on standard sport rules.” Karlie smiled, “Come to a game with me, please.” She paused, “Just one. Nobody will think anything of it, I promise.”_

_“Fine.” Taylor sighed in defeat, “I give.” She added jokingly, pecking Karlie on the lips softly, “It’s all about compromise, looks like we’ve already skipped past the honeymoon phase and jumped straight into being a married couple after twenty-five years.”_

_“Hmm,” the model waited until Taylor let go and started to leave the room. The second Taylor was out of sight, Karlie cleared her throat, “I wouldn’t mind it.”_

_“What?” Taylor quipped from the hallway, “I’m going to the den, what did you say?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Karlie,” Taylor peaked her head from behind the doorframe, “what did you say?”_

_“It’s nothing important.”_

_“God, that never gets old,” Taylor grinned, “seriously, babe. What did you say?”_

_“I wouldn’t mind,” Karlie pursed her lips, “being a married couple.” She looked at the singer, “With you.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“I’m sorry, that was weird to say - never mind, ignore me, I just -”_

_“No, no, hold on.” Taylor was next to her on the sofa in a blink of an eye, looking at her seriously, “You thought about it?”_

_“Maybe? I mean, not _super_ seriously because that would be odd, but I’ve always had ideas, what I’d want my wedding to look like and stuff, and what my life would look like after, and I just think it would be… nice. With you.”_

_“Tell me.”_

_“God, okay,” Karlie inhaled deeply, watching Taylor settle on the sofa, the thoughts of chilling in the den completely abandoned, “we’d get married here, in New York. Obviously. Honeymoon in Big Sur. Or Turks and Caicos. Me in Dior. You in de la Renta. Our siblings as best man and maids of honour. A barn conversion, folklore-y party. Buy a place together somewhere in Tribeca, or just move in here. Add another cat maybe. Or bring my dog over. Me calling dibs on the kitchen and one room that can stay antique-free for me to work on my coding and stuff. You know,” Karlie shrugged, “normal things.”_

_“That’s an elaborate plan, Kar.”_

_“It’s amendable.” Karlie smiled, “I don’t mind if it’s at a registry, we don’t do a honeymoon and we move into mine. As long as it’s you and me, I’m good. Plus, you know…”_

_“What?”_

_“I’d ask you.”_

_Taylor had felt like arguing. Something about her being the big planner and her having mood boards and lists and colour schemes for every single event possible. But Karlie sounded serious, and genuine, and in that moment, there was nothing to argue about._

_“Well,” Taylor said gently, “I’ll be waiting.”_

_\---_

There are about twelve interviews before her day is over. Double digit days are not her favourite, unless it lands on thirteen, but twelve interviews back-to-back really did take it out of her. Joe glances over at her while they’re on the backseat of the car, being driven home.

“How are you?”

“I’m good,” Taylor murmurs, continuing to scroll down Instagram.

There are pictures about the wedding. Guests who have happily shared well wishes in the caption, got pictures of Karlie’s first dance, Karlie posing in double denim, Karlie and Josh staring at a _fucking_ sunset somewhere in _fucking_ Saratoga.

“Do you think it was cowboy themed because Wyoming is the cowboy state?”

She looks at Joe in confusion, unaware he had been glancing at her screen.

“What?”

“Wyoming. 44th state of the United States. Cowboy State. Didn’t you, like,” he gesticulates, “know a tonne of weird facts per state?”

“I didn’t know that one, that’s a good one.”

“Add it onto your little list,” he grins, “do you fancy watching a movie tonight? Great Gatsby or something?”

“Sure,” Taylor agrees, typing _cowboy like me, Wyoming wedding_ into her notes.

“I know it’s none of my business, but -”

“But you’re still going to tell me.” Taylor smiles, not taking her eyes off the screen, “Go on.”

“Do you think you should be looking at all of that?” Joe asks softly, “I mean… what good does it do? It’s obviously not going to be something you want to see.”

“I have to look at it.” Taylor says solemnly, “If people ask.”

“They know you didn’t go.”

“I was busy.”

“Darling, I was quite literally with you all day. You didn’t even get dressed.”

“Okay, _you_ know that but nobody else does. I’d like to keep it that way.” Taylor glances over at him, “Right?”

“I’m not telling a soul, you know that.” Joe runs his hand through his hair, “I’m just saying, it might be better for you if you don’t subject yourself to learning the ins and outs of this wedding. You know they got married, _twice_, surely that suffices.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Taylor sighs, “but I’m genuinely fine. I promise.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

One of the things she likes best about Joe is that he knows when to drop a conversation. Seconds later, he’s back to reading something on his phone, and she can go back to scrolling down Instagram, looking at accounts and clicking through to their individual pictures of the happy couple.

One stands out almost instantly. One of the guests seems to have posted quite a few pictures of the venue, as well as a story. For a second, she hesitates when she looks at the red circle around the profile picture. Then, Taylor puts in her air pods and switches accounts, to something generic nobody would bother checking out even if they looked at who watched their Instagram stories. There’s clapping and shushing in something that looks like a barn conversion, and then the camera zooms in on Josh facing Karlie.

She knows she’s supposed to look at Josh, the camera’s focussed on him, but she can’t help but look at Karlie. 26 and married to Josh twice now. It stings when she thinks about it, especially when she thinks back of the stories Karlie would tell her years ago, stories about the Kushner family disapproving of her, quips she’d overheard, even the tales where Josh had defended her against his family were ones she’d rather not heard. She keeps looking at Karlie while Josh gives another speech of how lucky he is. How grateful he is. How amazed he is he got to marry her (twice). It takes eight different shots for him to get through the speech but the final one is the one that punches the air out of her lungs.

_“I married my best friend again.”_

She immediately exits Instagram and yanks the air pods out of her ears. She can feel Joe’s glance on her for a few seconds, before he looks back down at his phone. Taylor forces herself to look out of the window, trying to focus on the outside scenery instead of her phone and the insanity that is Karlie Kloss’s fucking second wedding. _I married my best friend again, what the fuck._ It’s hard to fight back tears, even though she’s fairly certain Joe would pretend she didn’t cry at all if she did. _I’m not crying. I’m just not._ She tells herself, not taking her eyes off of the cars passing by in the opposite direction.

“Was that the speech?” Joe asks.

Apparently, he _did_ pick up something. She just nods, unlocking her phone and handing it to him so he can watch the same thing.

_“I married my best friend again.”_

This time, hearing it out loud, she doesn’t even care the tears come. Joe sighs and scoots closer over, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” Joe rubs her back gently. "I know this must be really hard."

“He didn’t marry _his_ best friend,” she mumbles into his jacket, “he married _mine_.”


	16. Chapter XVI - Begin Again

_June 23, 2019_

As soon as she wakes up Taylor knows things are not great. Looking around the room tells her she didn’t even make it to the master bedroom and instead just decided to sleep in one of the guest rooms. Joe will think it’s because she was too broody (and slightly worse for wear) to make it up - Taylor knows it’s because the master bedroom holds memories of a six-foot-two blonde sleeping over and let that be the thing she was desperately trying to avoid thinking about the night before.

Her mouth feels so dry it almost distracts from how heavy her head feels. As soon as they’d got home, Taylor had decided to have a drink, just one. Then she’d had another and when Joe gently remarked _maybe_ there was a better coping mechanism, she’d grabbed the entire bottle of wine in one hand, her glass in the other and stormed off to her music room.

She’d written exactly zero songs, but the bottle was empty in no time.

It takes four attempts to unlock her phone because FaceID doesn’t seem to recognise her twice and she half-heartedly enters her PIN wrong the first time. Almost immediately, she goes to Instagram, the last app she used the night before prior to dozing off. There’s even more footage about Karlie’s wedding now than there was in the past few days. She spots one of the British royals, a few big names in fashion and then sees Katy Perry smiling directly at the photographer.

She’s not salty.

If she was immature, she would wonder why Katy would agree to star in one of her videos she’d recently recorded and not mention she got an invite to Karlie’s wedding and now go to a _three-day event_ in the middle of absolutely nowhere to celebrate Karlie’s nuptials. She tries to think how Karlie and Katy are even friends but blanks entirely. Sunk in thought, Taylor is not even aware of the bedroom door opening slowly before a blonde mop of hair appears in her peripheral vision.

“Morning.” Joe tries, “How are you feeling?”

“Not great.”

Her voice sounds hoarser out loud than she anticipated. Joe walks further into the room, holding a pill packet and a glass of water.

“Figured you might want these,” he says while he puts everything down on the nightstand, “how would you feel about seeing friends today?”

“Not great.” She can’t help but smile as she grabs what she assumes is paracetamol and swallows it, quickly taking a few gulps of water straight after, “Why?”

“Selena called me earlier, she’s dropping by,” Joe looks down at his watch, “fairly soon.”

“And when she asked to come over, you didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell her not to bother?”

“She didn’t ask.” The Brit shrugs, “She’ll be here in ten. Do you want me to stall her or do you just want me to,” he looks around, “send her in here?”

“Sure,” Taylor sighs, falling back into the pillows, “why do you think she’s coming around?”

“Being a friend, I suppose.”

“Did you say anything?”

“I never say anything to anyone,” Joe sighs, “you know this.”

“Joe?” Taylor asks when the younger man turns around to leave, “I’m sorry I am making all of this so difficult. I’m sorry _I_ am difficult.”

“You’re not difficult,” Joe doesn’t skip a beat, “you’re human.”

And with that, he leaves the room. Taylor stares at the ceiling, wondering why despite the fact Joe is level-headed and kind and understanding, her mind still chooses to preoccupy itself with the most irrational, impulsive person she’s ever met in her life.

\---

“You look like shit.”

Selena doesn’t even try to pretend nothing is wrong the second she comes in. She tosses her bag onto one of the fauteuils and seats herself down on the edge of the bed, leaning down so she can brush her lips against Taylor’s cheek swiftly.

“Hey,” Taylor tries to smile before sitting up, “what brings you here?”

“I saw Karlie Kloss’s wedding crap and I had a feeling you would not take it very well and look at this,” she says, gesticulating, “I was right.”

“I’m processing.”

“You’re wallowing.” Selena doesn’t even entertain her answer, “I am willing to bet my life that you have done nothing the past few days but scrolling down your socials and looking at everything that happened in Wyoming and get worked up about it.”

“I’m _not_ worked up.”

“Fine, get _whatever this is_ about it.”

Silence falls upon them, Selena staring at Taylor and Taylor trying to look anywhere but her friend’s piercing eyes. It takes a few moments but, in the end, the blonde cracks.

“I just do not understand -”

“I _knew_ it,” Selena exclaims, “girl - why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“Some of my friends went to the wedding.” Taylor mumbles, “And I’m trying to stay rational about it, but Katy quite literally hung out with me last month and now went to Wyoming, and I just -”

“How does she even know Karlie?”

“I don’t know!” Taylor exclaims, “See? This is what I mean, it’s a matter of loyalty.”

“Maybe Orlando knows Josh.” Selena ponders, “_Anyway_, it’s got nothing to do with loyalty.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Selena crosses her legs and flattens her skirt before looking back at Taylor, “we are in a business that is stupidly small, Tay. Only few people matter, and everyone does everything to stay in those people’s good books. Nobody can afford to alienate an entire branch of the industry. Everyone knows everyone and nobody can risk picking sides.”

Silence.

“_You_ picked a side.” Taylor mumbles, “You would not have gone if you’d received an invitation.”

“Like you, you mean?” Selena deadpans, “To be fair, Tay, I may have gone. And I’d have taken you as my plus one because I like choosing violence.” Taylor can’t help but laugh. “I am the queen of chaos.”

The laughter subsides after a few seconds and Selena reaches for Taylor’s hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing her hand gently.

“I’m not coping.” Taylor admits, “I just - I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“You should talk to someone,” the Latina says gently, “talking would help.”

“I talk to you.”

“Not good enough.”

“And Joe.”

“Also, not good enough,” Selena sighs, “though I’ll be the first to say that boy is a saint.”

“He wonders why you don’t follow him on socials.”

“Don’t change the subject,” the brown-eyed girl smiles, “talk to someone.”

“I don’t need therapy,” Taylor purses her lips, “I don’t want to say anything and have things come out and,” she pauses, “I’ll talk to mom if I have to.”

“And you’ve told Andrea about Karlie?”

“She knows Karlie got married.”

“And she knows about you and Karlie?” Selena cocks her head to the side, “She knows that you two saw each other for a while? Does she know your entire New York phase was about Karlie? Tens of millions in real estate fees and giving up branching out in Europe? She knows that too?”

“I like New York.”

“But you loved Karlie.” Selena doesn’t skip a beat, “You even went to that dumb basketball game with her and you _hate_ sports.”

\---

_“You look,” Karlie took a step back, “so not dressed for a casual sports game.”_

_“What is wrong with it?” Taylor frowned, “You literally look the same to me.”_

_“Na-ah,” the younger girl pointed at her outfit, “sneakers because stadiums are hard to walk through in heels, boyfriend jeans because I’m super casual and a sleeveless top because it’s going to be hot as balls in there.” She said confidently, “In stark contrast with you, on _heels_, wearing a black long-sleeve and skin-tight jeans. A black widow vibe.”_

_“Alright,” Taylor frowned, “daddy long legs.”_

_Karlie laughed before pulling Taylor closer to her._

_“Long legs I get,” she grinned, “what’s with the _daddy_ part of it,” green eyes glinted mischievously, “didn’t know that about you.”_

_“It’s a spider reference, Karlie!” Taylor feigned shock, “Get your mind out of the gutter.”_

_“My mind’s been going _everywhere_,” Karlie admitted, “this is like our actual first date.”_

_“This is _not_ a first date.” Taylor smiled as Karlie opened the door to the SUV parked outside of the flat, “Thanks.”_

_“It’s a thing we are doing in public,” Karlie climbed into the car after her, “we haven’t done that before. You’re going to love it; I’ll make sure of it.”_

_“A Knicks’ game is not a date,” Taylor laughed, “I still can’t believe I agreed to this.”_

_“I don’t care if _you_ don’t think this is a date.” Karlie shrugged as she clicked her seatbelt into place, “I don’t even care Tree is going to be there. I’m going to buy you a jersey and a hot dog and we’ll have beer in plastic cups and I’ll even get you a diet coke because you are a lightweight, I’ll explain all the rules, it’ll be _fun_.”_

_Taylor had agreed that it would be fun and had fully believed it. She believed it when Tree mentioned the paparazzi and sat down with an assistant a few rows behind them, she believed it when she made small talk with Ben Stiller and his kid, she had even believed it when Karlie explained foul lanes and ally-oops. Karlie had put her hand on Taylor’s knee and from the corner of her eye she’d seen a photographer snap a picture and that had been the start of her unravelling slowly. Almost immediately, she felt on edge._

_“Hey,” Karlie said gently, making Taylor look at her, “it’s okay. Just relax.”_

_“I’ll try.” Taylor muttered._

_She had tried to get back into the game, copying Karlie’s cheers and chants whenever the blonde stood up and clapped. She’d drank some of the beer Karlie had brought over and she’d even shouted encouragement at one of the Knicks players as he dribbled past them. It had been nice if it weren’t for the constant fear someone would pick up on something she was doing while being out with Karlie, or worse, Tree looking down at them from a few rows behind and realising she was in for a PR catastrophe._

_After about an hour’s in, she’d gone to the bathroom during two quarters of the game, followed swiftly by Karlie. Taylor had done her best to casually walk down the hall despite the fact her heels were killing her and immediately dove into one of the cubicles. When she came out again, Karlie was leaning against the sink, looking at her carefully._

_“Hey,” Karlie stepped aside so she could wash her hands, “are you okay?”_

_“I’m fine, I’m just,” Taylor slammed the soap dispenser harder than she wanted to, “they’re taking so many pictures, Karlie. I’m just scared they’ll -”_

_“They won’t.” Karlie cut her short, “They have just spotted a model, a singer and an actor sitting right next to each other courtside of a Knicks game and they want to get some snaps. That’s their livelihood. Nobody is suspecting anything.” Karlie handed her some paper towels, “I promise. Nobody is going to put us on kiss cam or whatever. I swear to you, we could walk across that court holding hands and nobody would give a shit.”_

_“Karlie…”_

_“Taylor.” Karlie said resolutely, taking a step closer and reaching out for the singer’s hand, “Nobody would give a shit,” she repeated softly, running her thumb over the inside of Taylor’s wrist, “we’re just two best friends having a fun time,” she whispered, “I promise. Please just try and relax.”_

_The soft strokes of Karlie’s thumb pad on her wrist helped. Taylor sighed and nodded._

_“Okay,” she agreed, “yeah, you’re right.”_

_“I’m always right,” Karlie smiled, leaning in closer and gently brushing her lips against the singer’s cheek, “trust me.”_

_They’d walked back to their seats and Taylor had sat there quietly, fighting back a smile every time Karlie cursed when the Knicks lost possession. By the last quarter, she ended up shouting just as loud as the model because the Knicks were _her_ team as well now and the Bulls had beaten them 104 to 80. When the game was over and Karlie got up, gathering their cups and tossing them in a bin nearby, Taylor waited patiently. Tree had come down to the court as well, introducing her to a few more people she’d never even heard of when suddenly a photographer came closer and snapped a few pictures from Karlie._

_“Karlie, Taylor, quick look please!” The man begs, "That's great, girls. Just a second, that is fantastic, perfect!"_

_Karlie had given her a look before briefly glancing over at Tree. Tree was engaged talking to a man Taylor knew was called Mac; the singer smiled and took a stand next to Karlie, wrapping her arm around the model’s slim waist._

_“Perfect!” The photographer smiled, “One more?”_

_Karlie wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in slightly closer as Taylor did the same with her arm around the taller girl’s middle. A few shots later, the photographer seemed satisfied._

_“Have a lovely rest of your evening, ladies. What did you think of the game, Taylor?”_

_“Absolute travesty we lost.” Taylor said, glancing at Karlie as the model grabbed her bag from her seat, “Thought we had it.”_

_“You said ‘we’,” Karlie grinned, “Spoken like a true New Yorker.”_

_“Karlie…”_

_She looked at the people in the stands, all readying to leave, most already on the move. The court itself became an easy exit, people walking across to get out as soon as possible and maybe beat traffic._

_“Yah?”_

_“Come.”_

_In an act of New York bravery, she held out her hand to the younger woman. Karlie hesitated for a second but then switched her leather jacket to her right arm and grabbed Taylor’s hand with her left. Taylor’s grip on her blue blazer tightened as she tried not to squeeze Karlie’s hand too hard when they made their way across the court and then filed into a hall with dozens of other people. Tree had caught up with them but didn’t seem to have anything to say about them holding hands._

_“Am I dropping you off?” Taylor finally let go of Karlie’s hand as they got to the SUV._

_“Drive to yours and I’ll walk back to mine.” Karlie smiled._

_“You sure? You can stay over if you like, it’s late,” Taylor responded before realising how dumb that sounded considering the time, “I mean, I don’t mind.”_

_“I can do with the exercise,” Karlie waved at the redhead looking at them from a few feet away, “Bye Tree!”_

_“Bye Karlie,” Tree replied, not uncrossing her arms as she walked over to Taylor, “Taylor, quick word.” She waited for the singer to close the door of her SUV, “If any media outlets get in touch - you are experiencing New York. Just emphasise you do _not_ need a man; you have your girl squad, and you are living it up and having the time of your life.”_

_“Yes,” Taylor nodded, “got it. I’ll speak to you tomorrow?”_

_“I’ll come over.” Tree smiled, “Night Taylor.”_

_“What was that all about?” Karlie asked as soon as Taylor got in the backseat of the car, “Are we in trouble?”_

_“No.” Taylor grinned, “We just decided I don’t need a man, I’m having the time of my life.”_

_“Good,” Karlie’s hand found hers again in the darkness of the backseat, “That’s good.”_

_When they had pulled up in front of Taylor’s apartment later, Karlie had jumped out of the car and held the door before walking up to the front of the building with Taylor._

_“Thought you were not coming in?” Taylor smirked, her heart thudding in her chest._

_“It’s a date, I’m walking you to the door.” The model didn’t hesitate, “Don’t worry, I won’t try to make out with you or anything. I know your nosy neighbours have camera’s.”_

_“Sorry.” Taylor mumbled, “You can come in if you want, there’s no,” she didn’t finish the thought, “you can come in if you want. You can stay over,” she paused, “if you want.”_

_“I’m up early for a shoot.” Karlie chewed her lip, “Later this week?”_

_The model pulled her in a hug in front of the building and Taylor relished in the warmth of Karlie’s embrace, making it last as long as she could without any nosy neighbour becoming suspicious._

_“Love you.” Karlie whispered gently, pressing her lips against Taylor’s cheek._

_“Love you.”_

_She watched Karlie put on her leather jacket and waved until the taller girl was out of sight before entering the building and leaning back against the heavy wooden door. Maybe sports weren’t the worst after all._

_\---_

“I hate sports.” She lies through her teeth as Selena watches her, “That was just some promo Tree had in mind. New York vibe and all that."

“If you say so.” Selena sighs, “That’s not the point. The point is Karlie Kloss. It’s been years now, Taylor. You need to,” the Latina pauses, “_talk _to her.”

“Talk?” Taylor snorts, “To Karlie?”

“Yes.” Selena has never looked this serious, “You need to sit down with her and talk this over because whatever is or is not still there between the two of you, cannot go on. You either have to put it all on the table, or you need to,” Selena sighs, “stop.”

“She’s married.”

“I know.”

“Twice.”

“I know.” Selena sighs, “That does not answer my question though. Are you over Karlie? Irrevocably and unconditionally and beyond any reasonable doubt? Done?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be,” Taylor leans back in her pillows, “God, how fucking sad.”

“It’s not sad, I just -” Selena abruptly shuts up when she hears the guest room door open, “Oh, hi again, Joe.”

“Babe, Tree is on the land line? I think it’s about that catalogue of yours, she doesn’t sound happy at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments (LOVE the ones analysing everything and giving actual feedback on the writing - super helpful). I appreciate you all - come find me on Twitter and we can scream about (Taylor's Version) until April ninth. Deal? Deal.


	17. Chapter XVII - Mean

_June 30, 2019_

The atmosphere in the room almost stresses her out more than the actual situation she finds herself in. After Tree’s phone call, they had agreed to meet up face-to-face in New York. Not only had she told Tree to come to the penthouse, she’d called up her parents and her legal team as well, Joe had offered to be there as support and for the first time in a long while she’d taken him up on the offer, something that had surprised both of them.

“So,” Tree begins once all sixteen people are seated in Taylor’s living room, “welcome all - for those who are not yet entirely in the loop, I was informed by Scott Borchetta’s legal team that he has decided to sell the entirety of Big Machine Label Group to the highest bidder. In this case,” Tree almost looks disgusted, “Scooter Braun.”

“You didn’t know about any of this?” Taylor asks once Tree stops talking.

There’s a silence that overcomes the room while Scott Swift shifts uneasily in the armchair he picked out minutes earlier.

“I abstained of any of the shareholders’ meetings,” he mumbles, “conflict of interest.”

“I don’t think your father is to blame for any of this,” Andrea mediates subtly, “What’s done is done, the question is what are we going to do about it?”

“Are you _sure_ I cannot buy my own masters back?” Taylor turns to the head of legal.

“It is a package deal. $300 million for all of the artists’ masters. Yours accounts for $180 million, we have _repeatedly_ liaised to try and come to a compromise where we could purchase your masters and leave the rest of the catalogue as is but to no avail.”

“So, what are her options?” Andrea interrupts, staring the man down.

“Ms. Swift,” the man starts, looking at Andrea before turning back to Taylor, “_you_ can either take Mr. Braun up on his offer, or -”

“He made an _offer_,” Taylor exclaims, “that is… what is his offer?” She pauses, "How can he _possibly_ think he has an offer that I would be willing to accept, knowing my work is, well, mine?"

“RBMG notified us that they are happy to let you earn back your masters.”

“I _what_?”

“You would be contractually obliged to release six albums under RBMG and for each album you release, they would,” the lawyer clears his throat, “give you back the rights to the masters of one album, starting with Taylor Swift and ending with Reputation.”

“No.”

“There isn’t really any leeway to negotiate anything else,” another lawyer sighs, “the foundation of the contract you signed with Mr. Borchetta -”

“When I was 15.”

“- when you were 15, stipulates he can do what the masters as he pleases. If he sells them onto Mr. Braun and the latter only wants to return them as an exchange with new music offered in return, there is not much we can argue. Unless you want to wait it out and opt for the rerecording clause.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Taylor leans forward, “I can rerecord it?”

“We looked into it and starting from November 2020, you would be able to rerecord the first five albums. Reputation, due to the recent release, would have to wait a few more years. You could rerecord that in 2022.”

“Right, well,” Taylor looks at Tree, “I’m going to rerecord the entire thing.”

Tree keeps her professional front although it’s clear to anyone in the room the redhead’s head is buzzing with questions and concerns.

“You would have to take into account,” Tree taps her pen onto the coffee table next to the sofa she’s sitting on, “that you would have to rerecord all of these while you are working on your current music. It would have to happen between press releases and touring and practice and recording your current music.”

“That’s fine.” Taylor says determinedly, “That’s what I will do.”

“Taylor,” Tree clears her throat, “are you _sure_ about this? It’s… a lot of work, even for you. With the new cycle starting in a few weeks, I’m not sure this is the best course of action.”

“It is _my_ music; he is _not_ going to make money from it.” Taylor gets up, grabbing her notepad, “I don’t care if I don’t earn a single cent on that entire catalogue in the future, but he is _not_ going to either. You tell him that,” she turns to the legal team, “I’m rerecording.”

“Alright,” the publicist looks around the room, “well, I guess that concludes this meeting. I’ll write up a statement and -”

“No need,” Taylor interrupts her, “_I_ will put out a statement.”

“Honey, Tree knows what she is doing, why don’t you -”

“It’s _my_ music,” Taylor interrupts her mother just as fast as she did Tree, “I’ll do it myself.”

* * *

It takes half an hour before everyone has cleared out and another fifteen minutes before Joe knocks on the bedroom door and sets it ajar, carefully glancing in.

“Hey,” he says gently, “they’ve all left, your mum said she would drop by tomorrow before they fly back out. How are you feeling?”

“Furious.” Taylor mumbles, not taking her eyes off the ceiling.

After composing her statement and posting it onto her socials, she had put her phone away and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the little floaters she could see each time she focussed on a particular point, chasing them as soon as her focus shifted.

“I figured,” Joe sighs, stepping further into the room, “why don’t we go for a quick walk? It’s not too warm, doubt there are many people around.” He pauses, “Quick walk to the park and back?”

“Sure,” she agrees, knowing he is trying to make her feel less shit, “fresh air will help feel me feel less murderous, right?”

“Definitely,” Joe grins, “and if not, at least we’ll have seen a bit more of New York.”

* * *

If there is something she really loves about New York, it’s the summer air. She felt it as soon as she left the penthouse, linking arms with Joe and assuring her security detail they did not need a foursome trailing them from behind. From time to time she felt blessed that Joe wasn’t famous in the USA (‘Yet!’ he would point out with a wink each time she brought it up), blissfully able to sneak in and out of venues, pop to the shops, go on a walk without a dozen paparazzi following his every move. As long as she dressed inconspicuously enough and kept her head down, there was a certain ease in walking around unnoticed.

“Taylor?”

Joe glances at the stranger approaching them on the walking path in the park before glancing over at her and pulling her slightly closer.

“Oh _hey_,” Taylor immediately tries to remember where she knows the skinny blonde from, “how are you?”

“I’m good,” the fair-skinned woman smiles, “hi,” she turns to Joe, “Behati.”

“Joe,” the Brit nods, “nice to meet you.”

_Karlie’s friend._ She almost sighs in relief when she remembers Karlie’s model friend who insisted they both went for drinks with her and some other models after the Victoria Angels Fashion Show. She’d changed in the past few years, Taylor thought, looking every bit as stunning as she used to but slightly less carefree.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Behati smiles, “have you been up to much?”

“Sorting out some business,” Taylor deliberately tries to keep it vague, figuring Behati doesn’t exactly follow her on social media anymore, “getting ready for a new album in two months so it gets quite busy.”

“Girl, I _bet_,” Behati glances between the two of them, “have you heard from Karlie lately?”

“Kloss?”

She can see Joe stifle a laugh when she pretends there are tonnes of Karlie’s she knows, and she doesn’t have a clue which one Behati means.

“Eh, yeah.” The model pauses, “She’s in Los Angeles at the moment, something to do with that coding thing she likes so much. I think she’s back sometime next week though, we were going to go for drinks - you should come!”

“Like I said,” Taylor clings harder to Joe’s arm, “I am unfortunately _very_ busy. Lovely seeing you though, maybe next time we run into each other I’ve got more free time and we can hang out?”

“Sure,” Behati seems to accept the answer, “that sounds nice. Don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll be better, I promise,” Taylor gently pulls at Joe’s arm, “Lovely seeing you!”

Joe says a quick goodbye before leaning in closer to Taylor as they walk off.

“_Who_ was that?”

“Behati Prinsloo,” Taylor sighs, “Model, Karlie’s friend.”

“She seems nice.”

“They all seem nice.” The singer sighs, “That’s part of the issue.”

* * *

By the time nine o’ clock rolls around, she’s got a massive headache. The walk with Joe had given her some peace of mind, the fresh air had actually helped and apart from running into Behati, nothing noteworthy had happened. The contrast between her peaceful afternoon and the bombardment of texts and calls and emails that followed once she was back home could not have been starker. Joe had good-naturedly decided to pick up any and all landline calls to divert them to Tree, and Taylor had given up checking her emails and socials a long time ago.

“Do you want any dinner?” Joe asks between two phone calls, spinning around on the kitchen stool that squeaks too much, “Fancy some pizza?”

“I’m not that hungry,” Taylor doesn’t bother getting up from the couch, “you have whatever you would like, babe.”

“I could do with some Chinese, actually.” Joe says, getting up and reaching for his leather jacket on the kitchen counter, “Sure you don’t want anything? Soup or dumplings or -”

“I’m good, thank you though.”

Joe hums in agreement as he zips up his jacket, standing around just a fraction of a second too long to pretend his follow-up question is natural.

“You’re eating, right?” He doesn’t even look at her, “Like enough?”

“Yup.”

She’s not sure whether it’s true but Joe is non-confrontational. The flat is silent as he inhales deeply and grabs his phone from the little table on the side.

“_Okay_,” he emphasises, “I’ll be back in half an hour tops.”

“Be careful.”

“It’s nine o’ clock at night in the fanciest street of New York,” he grins at her as he walks past, “I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s not Brixton.”

Taylor suppresses the grunt she’s been holding in until Joe pulls the front door shut behind him. _What a fucking mess._ Now that she’s by herself, she makes an effort to sit up and look for the cats, feeding all three of them in separate locations so none of them get distracted (Dibbles) or try to steal the other two’s food (Benji). Or worse, deck the rest of the cat pack (Meredith). The landline rings loudly and Taylor chooses to ignore it the first few times. When the ringing stops and then starts again, she wonders whether she should just pick up and tell whoever is calling to get lost. Before she can, it stops. And then begins all over again.

“For the love of God!” She grabs the phone and presses the call button, not saying anything.

There’s silence on the other end of the line before she hears a soft _oh_ when the caller realises she’s picked up.

_“Hello? So it’s true, you _are_ in New York, hi!”_ A familiar voice makes her blood run cold, _“Taylor?”_

She stands still in the middle of the kitchen, the fork she’s used to divide the cat food into three portions still clenched in her hand.

_“Hello?”_ The voice says again, _“Um. It’s Karlie?”_

“I know,” Taylor hears herself mumble, “hi.”

_“Oh okay, it _is_ working,” _Karlie sounds relieved, _“I was just calling to check in how you are.”_

“Bit random.” Taylor sighs, putting the fork down in the sink.

_“Yeah, well - okay, no. Behati text me saying she ran into you in the park and I didn’t know you were even in New York? She mentioned you looked a bit preoccupied and wondered if I knew what was wrong and I obviously don’t, so I thought I’d check in. You good?”_

“Don’t,” Taylor clenches her jaw, “Karlie, don’t play dumb.”

Silence.

_“What?”_

“Don’t play dumb,” the singer repeats, “don’t pretend you don’t know what he’s done.”

_“Who’s done what?”_

Taylor feels like she could scream.

“Scooter buying my masters,” she sighs, “fifteen years of my life down the dr- Actually, I don’t want to talk about it.”

_“Right,”_ the model sounds slightly worried, _“you don’t think - you’re not thinking _I _have something to do with it, right?”_

Taylor bites her tongue, watching Meredith walk over to where Olivia is blissfully unaware she’s about to get decked.

_“It would be insane to think I had anything to do with it just because he manages me, you know that, right?”_

“Do _not_ call me insane, Karlie.” Taylor snaps, walking over to Meredith and Olivia to break up the fight, “the joint venture that loaned Scooter the 300 million to buy my masters in the first place is one with your boyfriend’s name on it.”

_“That is crazy, that’s not -”_

“Oh my _God_,” Taylor groans, “Literally, Karlie. I had Tree look into it, I had legal look into it, Scooter got the loan from the Carlyle Group and the only company that _repeatedly _has done business with them since 2008, who rents from them and who’s been bailed out by them is one with Josh’s name on the deeds.”

_“And by association, you’re now thinking that’s on me.”_ Karlie snorts, _“That’s stupid.”_

“He was at your wedding, wasn’t he?” Taylor counters, “Sorry - _weddings_ because you had to have _two_.”

_“Actually, there were two because Josh’s family -”_

“I could not care less, Karlie.” Taylor interrupts, “Have a dozen fucking weddings if you like. I’m sure Scooter would attend all of them and tell the entire world ten times over that you are _family_, that you are the best fucking thing since sliced bread.”

_“Woah,”_ Karlie’s voice is getting louder, _“hold the fuck up. You can’t just lump me in with Scooter because he has shit to say about me. That’s all on him, you know that. If you want to give _me_ shit, Taylor, go off on stuff that I have said about him. I’d fucking love to see you try because I _haven’t_ said anything about him, ever.”_

“Karlie Kloss not having an opinion on someone,” Taylor says drily, “ground-breaking.”

_“You’re being awful.”_

“And you are being dishonest.”

_“I have not told him _anything_,” _Karlie sighs, _“I haven’t for the past four years and I definitely haven’t now. And I don’t get involved with Josh’s business, Taylor, you know that. I have zero interest in his joint ventures. I never have.”_

“And you expect me to believe that Josh signs off on a 300 million loan about _my_ music, with _my_ name on it and doesn’t even stop to think and mention it to you?”

There’s a short silence before Karlie speaks up again.

_“Yeah.”_ She says coolly, _“Josh is professional. He wouldn’t tell me anything if he’s asked not to.”_

“Why would he have been asked not to?” Taylor grips the counter, glancing at her knuckles whilst they slowly turn white from the pressure, “Why would you say that?”

_“I just - I don’t know, I’m assuming.”_ Karlie sounds desperate, _“Also I am sorry, what the fuck would I even have told Scooter? It’s not like I’m talking to you every single fucking day. And when we do, it’s definitely not about your _masters_, Taylor.”_

“I don’t know,” Taylor groans, “you may have told him,” she pauses, “stuff.”

_“Stuff.”_ Karlie snorts, _“You think I may have told him _stuff_. Do you genuinely think I have told anyone, Taylor?”_

“I don’t know.”

_“I fucking _hate_ that you think I’d tell anyone anything.”_ Karlie sounds worked up, _“You fucking know I was serious when I promised you I would never. Not until you,” _Taylor swallows when Karlie abruptly stops talking, _“I would fucking never. You know that.”_

“He stole my entire work, Karlie.” Taylor says softly, fighting back tears, “He blindsided my dad, he manipulated Scott, he refused to let me buy back what is mine, he just,” she pauses, “he just took it. And now I’ve lost all of it and I can’t, I can’t -”

_“And that is all very awful but it has _nothing_ to do with _me_,” _the younger woman says coolly, _“I’m not sure what I could do or say to make you believe me.”_

“I don’t think there is anything.” Taylor says gently, her voice barely a whisper, “I’m gonna go now.”

_“What?”_ Karlie exclaims, _“No? You can’t just - don’t you dare. You cannot just accuse me of shit like this and then refuse to talk it through. That’s not how this works, Taylor.”_

“Bye Karlie.”

_“Taylor, I swear to God, don’t you fucking da-”_

She hangs up mid-sentence. Less than ten seconds later, the phone rings again. Taylor rejects the call and stares at the phone, watching it light up almost straight away. Another reject. The phone rings back almost immediately. _Fucking hell. _She rejects the call and puts it in standby mode, automatically rejecting all incoming calls. The silence that falls over the apartment is both soothing and unnerving. The cats have settled down again and Taylor walks back to the living room area, happy to finally have some peace after the stressful chat with Karlie. She’s only just sat down when her phone retorts to familiar haptics.

_Message: Karlie_

_Please pick up x_

_Message: Karlie_

_Pick up the phone, Taylor x_

_Message: Karlie_

_I’m going to voice note you until you pick up the damn phone_

_Message: Karlie_

_Taylor, if you don’t pick up the phone, I swear to God I’m going to come to the flat_

Taylor turns her phone off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 28th, you guys - we made it through another pandemic month, good on us! Find me on Twitter, leave some feedback, you know the drill!
> 
> PS - Yes, this will have a happy ending.  
Eventually.


	18. Chapter XVIII - Bad Blood

_July 1, 2019_

It doesn’t take much to disperse her foul mood from the night before. Joe wakes up long before she does because when she wakes up and walks into the kitchen, there’s a plate of bagels waiting for her. Joe’s running on the treadmill in the gym room, she can hear the methodical thudding of his feet on the rubber. Meredith and Olivia are already sprawled out on the sofas, looking like best friends each time that they are both vast asleep. When Taylor walks around the flat to try and spot Benjamin, she hears Joe call out for her.

“Morning,” she says, peeking her head from behind the door, “what’s up?”

“He’s here,” Joe nods to the side, “Fighting the kettlebell.”

She can’t help but coo when she spots the kitten face off against a bright blue kettlebell, jumping around it and swiping before scurrying back. He mews frustratedly when she picks him up with ease and clutches him against her chest, then almost immediately starts purring. Taylor turns around and watches Joe run for a few moments before looking out on New York City.

“It can be so peaceful here,” she sighs happily, “I love New York. It's just so damn precious, isn't it. After Rhode Island, maybe this is my favourite place in the world.”

“It _can_ be, true,” Joe grunts, jumping off of the treadmill, “it can also be absolute hell. That subway is absolutely bloody horrendous and that’s coming from someone who has used London Underground all his life.” He pauses, “Have you ever taken the subway here?”

“Of course I have,” she feigns shock, “what kind of girl do you take me for!”

“One with Lincolns and drivers available,” Joe grins, grabbing a towel, “What does your schedule look like today?”

“I cleared it entirely.” Taylor nuzzles Benjamin’s head gently, “Yesterday was hectic enough as is, I could do with some peace and quiet.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have, my love,” Joe says jokingly, “I’ll be out of your hair in like half an hour tops. Just got to shower and put on some sporting gear.”

“I cannot actually believe you are going to watch sports later on,” she mumbles, following him out into the hallway, “I know you miss rugby, but American football is gruesome.”

“It’s for Jack’s birthday,” Joe walks over to the kitchen island before turning to open the fridge, “I can’t say no to a friend’s desperate plea to go see a football match with him.” He pauses, “Plus there’s like seven of us, nobody will even notice I have no idea what’s going on - do you want some cream cheese on yours?”

“Hm?”

“Bagel.” Joe raps his fingers against the tub of cream cheese, “I’m thinking salmon, chives, cream cheese. What do you say?”

“Sounds good,” she pulls one of the bar stools back and continues to scratch Benjamin’s chin gently, “can I have the plain ones?”

“I _knew_ you were gonna want the plain ones,” Joe pulls one of the drawers open, “where do you keep knives in this place?”

“Second one on the right, next to the sink.”

Joe grabs a knife and slices the bagels, tsking in disapproval when Taylor’s already opened the pack of salmon and tears off a piece to feed to a frenzied Benjamin.

“You are spoiling him.”

“I have to make sure his loyalties lie with me,” Taylor retorts half-seriously, “for some reason my cats always seem to prefer other people over me.”

“Right well,” Joe slides a plate over to her, “For Benji, it’s cream cheese that works best as bribery,” he grins as he runs his finger over his bagel to grab some of the creamy goodness, “come here, buddy.”

Benji almost immediately jumps on the counter, strutting over to where Joe’s standing.

“Unbelievable.” Taylor shakes her head, aiming the bit of salmon at the food bowl next to the kitchen counter and missing, “I truly am surrounded by traitors.”

“Have a nice chill day,” the Brit smiles, picking up Benji and kissing him on the head before walking around the kitchen isle and dropping him back into Taylor’s lap, “do something nice for yourself.”

“Mom’s coming over later.” Taylor calls after Joe as he leaves to go shower, “You might see her before she leaves for Nashville.”

“Doubt it,” Joe yells back from across the flat, “I think it’s gonna be a late one today.”

“Looks like it’s just me and you and your sisters, kid.” Taylor nuzzles Benjamin’s head gently as he tries to swipe at her bagels, “Peace and quiet.”

* * *

“You’ve got time!” Taylor laughs as Joe sprints to the door where his shoes are, “What’s with the sudden rush?”

“I was supposed to be there _ten_ minutes ago,” Joe sighs, “we are supposed to be punctual, you know,” he jumps up, grabbing his phone and keys, “okay cool, I’ll see you sometime tonight!”

“Bye!” Taylor manages to shout before the front door slams shut behind him.

The flat is almost instantly eerily quiet. _How did I ever live here by myself?_ She thinks back to a time she almost lived exclusively in New York, and how there was always _someone_ over in the flat - most of the times it had been Karlie. _Don’t, don’t, don’t._ Taylor sighs and hops off of the bar stool, fully intending to have a hot shower before Andrea makes it. Just when she’s about to leave the living room, the buzzer goes off frantically.

“See,” Taylor grins at an alarmed Benjamin, “he rushes and then he forgets his stuff.”

She presses the door lock twice before making her way down the hallway, cursing beneath her breath as Benji scurries between her legs and she almost trips. There’s frenzied knocking on the door, which halts her in her footsteps.

“Yeah, it’s _open_!” Taylor shouts, “Just come in?”

Her curiosity gets the better of her. _Why the hell didn’t he just use his key? _Thoughts of paparazzi waiting outside overcome her. _Maybe something happened and he can’t go see his friends. Maybe living here with me is ruining his life._ She’s already pulled her top off while walking to the bathroom but when she hears the door open, she automatically traces back her steps to the living room.

“What’s wr-” she abruptly stops talking when she sees who’s standing in the middle of her hallway, “what the _fuck_?”

With the light filtering through behind her, Karlie Kloss looks like some sort of vision. She clutches the top tighter to her chest to cover up, unsure why Karlie seeing her in a bra seems like the worst possible thought in the world. Karlie looks… bewildered. She stands motionless for a second, looking like she doesn’t quite belong right there. _Wasn’t she in Los Angeles?_ Karlie is dressed in what Taylor recognises as her leisure travel outfit when she flies to Europe, mainly Adidas branding and a jacket thrown on in a hurry.

“What the fuck indeed,” Karlie looks confused, “who were you expecting?”

“_Not_ you.” Taylor retorts, “What are you doing here?”

For a moment, Karlie looks beyond pleased with herself.

“I told you if you didn’t respond to my texts, I was going to come over.”

“From L.A.”

A moment of silence as Karlie glances at a curious Benjamin before looking back at Taylor.

“Yes,” she shrugs, “if that’s what it takes. You didn’t answer my texts, when I called you it just went right to voicemail, so I booked a flight and flew in and then just… came here.”

“You can’t be here.”

“It’s fine, nobody saw.” Karlie sighs, “Can we just talk?”

“I mean, I don’t _want_ you here.”

“You don’t,” Karlie pauses, “you don’t want me here.”

“No.”

“I didn’t tell Scooter anything.”Karlie says loudly and despite the fact Taylor’s stomach churns when she hears his name mentioned, she can’t help but think Karlie looks sincere, “I have absolutely nothing to do with this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Karlie.”

“Fine!” Karlie takes a few steps in her direction, causing Taylor to quickly put her top back on, “Can we talk about something else then? Literally anything? I just,” she purses her lips, “I have really missed you and you not wanting to talk to me because you think I may have done something which I did _not_ do, is driving me nuts.”

“Ten minutes.” She finally concedes.

“Oh,” Karlie steps aside so Taylor can walk past her, back to the living room, “do you have plans today?”

“Yes,” Taylor says coolly, “and I suspect you’ll have to go back to Los Angeles sometime today, so we better make this brief.”

“I’m actually staying in New York,” Karlie says gently, “I prefer the East Coast.” There’s a slight pause, “You know that.”

Taylor sits down in one of the armchairs and gestures for Karlie to sit down on one of the sofas. It’s awkward and it _hurts_ to see Karlie behave so measured, so… _un-Karlie_. Karlie chooses to sit down on the sofa closest to her and almost squeals when Olivia comes strutting in.

“Olivia, don’t -” Taylor hears herself say out loud.

The white cat has already jumped onto the sofa and immediately busies herself with smelling Karlie’s arm.

“Hi Dibbles,” Karlie smiles, stroking the cat’s back gently, “I’m sorry, would you rather I -”

“They are not allowed on the sofas,” Taylor lies, “the hair....”

“Oh,” Karlie nods in understanding, “Of course - come here, Dib.” The exact opposite of what Taylor wanted happens. Karlie pulls the cat onto her lap entirely, running her hand over the sofa cushion to get off any white hairs, before scratching Olivia’s fur gently with both hands. “I missed you.” She coos, “Yes, I did.”

“Karlie,” Taylor sighs, “can you please just say what you feel like you need to say?”

“I miss you,” the model dives right in, “I miss you and the fact I can’t just call you up anymore or come over to hang out with you really fucking _sucks_, Taylor. And I thought maybe it was going to be a temporary thing, or maybe you just needed time to come around to the idea of me being married or something, but it’s been ages now and you just… you are trying to cut me out.”

“I’m not.”

“You _are_.” Karlie interrupts her, staring right into worried blue eyes, “I _know_ you. I have seen you do it to other people back in the day. It starts with being busier, then there are promises, then the cards and flowers and presents and shout outs stop, then the calls stop, then the texts. And before you realise it, you’re cut out of Taylor Swift’s life. And I’m not going to let you do that to me,” Karlie shakes her head, “I don’t deserve that. I haven’t done _anything_ wrong and I’m not letting you cut me out.”

“Your boyfriend -”

“Husband.”

Taylor knows Karlie corrects her to make a point and despite the fact she expected it to hurt when Karlie would say it, she realises she was never quite prepared for the actual moment.

“_Josh_,” she rephrases, not willing to grant Karlie the satisfaction, “works with a capital fund that facilitated Scooter to buy my masters. Surely you understand that that looks _off_, Karlie.”

“I have my own money.” Karlie says coolly, “What Josh does with his, and who he works with, is none of my concern. And to be fair, Taylor, none of this actually matters. You have a _lot_ of friends that are friendly with Scooter,” the model points out, “Ed, for example. Do you ever give Ed shit for talking to him?”

“Ed and I never,” Taylor erupts, “We never - that is _different_.”

“Ed is your friend.” Karlie says, “I am your _friend_ now. It is the same exact thing.”

“It’s a trust issue,” Taylor sighs, choosing to ignore Karlie’s jab, “I don’t know what you have or have not told him - how can I hang out with you and be open with you when I don’t know if you have an ulterior motive?”

“I have never even mentioned your masters, I didn’t even know there was a thing called masters,” Karlie groans, “I don’t give a shit about the music industry, Taylor, you know this. All I know is that you are good at making it and writing it and you record things and keep them on little iPods and then let me listen to it,” the model rants on, “and I know you have a thing called a vault but not a physical vault, where you keep all the stuff that doesn’t quite make the cut for albums just in case, and when I said that to Yael, she said Scooter had told her quite a few artists do th-”

“You _what_?”

“What?”

“You told his wife about the Vault?!” Taylor yells, jumping up from the armchair, “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?”

Dibbles jumps off of Karlie’s lap, startled by the noise. Karlie gets up too, frowning.

“That’s not your _masters_ though?” Karlie raises her voice, “I didn’t tell _him_ anything, I was just chatting with Yael over dinner, and _she_ said that a lot of people do that, so it’s not even a big fucking secret, I don’t understand -”

“No,” Taylor suppresses a sob, “clearly you do not understand.”

“Then explain - are you crying?”

“No.” Taylor shakes her head, taking a step back when Karlie reaches out for her, “don’t fucking touch me.”

“Taylor,” the taller woman says gently, “_Taylor_, it’s okay. I didn’t - I wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I won’t ever mention anything to remotely be related to you to any of them ever again. I am sorry, I didn’t know that vault thing was a big deal - genuinely. I am sorry.”

“You need to leave.”

“Not before you are okay.” Karlie tries again, stepping closer, “Taylor.”

“I’ll be fine once you leave.” Taylor sniffles, “Please, just go.”

“My relationship with Scooter,” the model says slowly, “is entirely separate from my relationship with you.”

“That’s where you are wrong,” Taylor doesn’t even wipe her cheek when the tears finally come, “you and I don’t have a relationship anymore because of your relationship with Scooter.”

Karlie is quiet for a moment, just looking at Taylor silently crying a few feet away from her.

“I think we both know that’s not the _only_ reason.” She mutters.

“Well,” Taylor clears her throat, “it’s the only one that matters.”

When Taylor looks up at Karlie, the younger woman looks like something’s broken inside of her. For once, there’s not sassy reply or snarky comeback. Karlie opens her mouth to maybe say something but shuts it a fraction of a second later, unsure what to even say. Part of Taylor thinks maybe she’s pushed it too far, maybe she should have let the blonde hug her, maybe she should not have intentionally tried to hurt her enough to make her stop talking.

“Okay.” Karlie says in defeat, “I um, I’m gonna go.”

“Good.” Taylor hears herself say. _Stop fucking talking._

Karlie steps past her and walks over to the front door, not even stopping to say bye to a forlorn-looking Dibbles. Taylor turns to watch her leave, arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“I just,” Karlie turns around again, quickly wiping at her own eye, doing her best to avoid eye contact with Taylor full stop, “I know I fucked up. I’m not saying I didn’t, I get it now. I’m just - I would have _never_ intentionally hurt you. Not back then, not now.” She looks into similarly teary blue eyes for just a second, “I wouldn’t ever.”

“I can’t trust you anymore.” It comes out as barely a whisper, “I’m _sorry_, Karlie, because I swear, I _want_ to but I just,” she purses her lips, “I can’t.”

“But -”

Karlie’s new-found confidence to tackle Taylor’s worries is cut short when the buzzer sounds again, this time startling both of them. _Maybe Joe has actually forgotten something._ She looks at Karlie, unsure whether she wants to buzz Joe in when Karlie’s around.

“I need to -” Taylor swallows, “hold on. Hello?” She speaks into the intercom.

“_Hi honey, it’s me. I’m a bit early but I thought we could do brunch.”_

“Oh, hi mom,” Taylor glances at Karlie, “can you give me a second? I’ll be right down.”

_“No worries, honey, Sam’s already opened up the main door, I’ll be up right away.”_

“Mom, wait, don’t -”

Andrea has already stepped away from the intercom because the only thing they can hear is footsteps further and further away until another door is shut.

“That’s my mom.” Taylor croaks.

“Do you want me to,” Karlie looks around, “hide or something?”

For a second, Taylor considers it. Surely Karlie fits in the closet, and having the model stand between her coats for a few minutes would surely be less awkward than having to explain to her mother why Karlie was stood there in the middle of the hallway.

“Hi honey,” Andrea comes in without warning, “I thought maybe we could go for brunch and then - oh.”

“I eh,” Taylor swallows, “had bagels already.”

“Hi Andrea,” Karlie forces a smile, “long time no see.”

“Karlie,” Andrea says slowly, glancing at Taylor, “hi sweetheart, how are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

“I’m alright,” Andrea coughs, “how were your weddings? I heard you -”

“Karlie was just leaving, mom.”

Karlie doesn’t chime in but manages to nod.

“It was _lovely_ seeing you.” She emphasises, pulling Andrea in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Bye Andrea.” She says softly before pulling Taylor closer and kissing her cheek as well, “Bye.”

“Bye.” Taylor mumbles.

Karlie is out faster than ever before. Andrea waits for Taylor to close the door before speaking up.

“She still does that European kiss thing then?”

“It’s a model thing I guess.” Taylor sighs, “Hi mom.”

“Baby,” Andrea reaches out to grab Taylor’s wrist gently, “You better tell me everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a lush Sunday, Taylor's announced to perform at the Grammy's - thought I'd sweeten that deal by updating this bad boy! Thanks for all the love you've been showing this story (as per usual), god knows how much I appreciate each and every single one of you. If you liked it - hit that bookmark, maybe leave a comment, give some kudos... or tell your pals about Daylight! Once again reiterating this will have a happy ending (eventually) but feel free to come shout at me on Twitter if you have doubts.
> 
> Cheers, you beautiful people. xo


	19. Chapter XIX - It's Time To Go

_July 14, 2019_

New York has never quite been _this_ busy. Even from the backseat Taylor can tell her driver is getting increasingly annoyed with how bad traffic is and even Joe, who usually doesn’t mind being late, has started sighing every few minutes. When Taylor glances over at him, she can tell he is uncomfortable in his suit and bow tie but when Stella McCartney had rang her up a week prior, invited her to a dinner party and said ‘_bring that boyfriend of yours’, _she had immediately promised her British friend she would indeed bring him.

“Thanks for tagging along,” she reaches out for the hand that is not desperately tugging on a bow tie that looks too tight by all standards, “I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” the blonde man lets her hold his hand, squeezing back gently, “I’m sure it will be great fun.”

The past two weeks had been… challenging. When Karlie had dashed out of the flat and her mother had subsequently asked her questions over the course of three hours, all of which she had skilfully dodged and deflected, she told herself she was going to be more careful. When Joe had come home later that night, she sat him down and told him what had happened, how she was going to need him to _be_ there for a while, how she did not want to be by herself for the time being. Joe had agreed, graciously, and by the time she’d stopped crying and walked into the kitchen, he’d already text his friends and cancelled all further plans for the rest of the month.

“It will be,” she reassures him, “You’ll like Stella, she’s hilarious. The entire family is a hoot.”

She doesn’t tell him she would have cancelled hours earlier if it weren’t for the fact Stella agreed to make an entire capsule collection for her album. She doesn’t tell him the idea of having to sit down for hours in a room full of strangers fills her with dread. She doesn’t tell him she needs Joe to not leave her side because when she is by herself, all she wants to do is talk to Karlie.

Fucking Karlie Kloss.

The model had not got in touch after she’d basically ran out of her apartment. Taylor did not want to initiate any kind of conversation, so she had not texted her whatsoever, _sort of _expecting Karlie to contact her sooner rather than later. The past two weeks had been eerily quiet; her phone had not buzzed with frantic haptics once. She may or may not have scoured social media, hoping to find a clue of where Karlie was, what Karlie was doing, but nothing seems to have worked. Wherever Karlie Kloss was, she could not get a hold of her.

“Finally.”

Joe’s sigh of relief pulls her back to the here and now of a bustling New York. Her driver manages to pull up right at the parking of the Bowery Hotel and the divider between the front and back comes down momentarily.

“Do you want me to wait, Ms Swift?”

“No need to wait for us here, John,” Taylor smiles at the man in his mid-fifties, “take a few hours off - I’ll call you when we’re five minutes away from leaving, would that work?”

“Perfect,” he gives her a thumbs up, “have fun!”

_I doubt it. _“Will do!” She says, reaching for the door handle, “Come on, babe.”

Luckily there are no paparazzi nearby when she steps out of the car, carefully making sure her dress doesn’t get stuck in the car. When Joe walks around and offers his arm, she gratefully accepts the extra assistance. _These fucking heels._ She’d been worrying what to wear all day because what do you wear to a fashion designer’s casual dinner party? Joe had laughed, watching her walk into the office showcasing eight different outfits while he had laid his suit out first thing in the morning. In the end, she’d opted for black. _May as well go timeless._ Louboutin heels on her feet, a bunch of accessories that she thought Stella and her fashionable friends would appreciate and she’d called it a day.

“Good evening,” the maître smiles as soon as she walked through the door, “Ms Swift and Mr Alwyn - may I take any coats?”

“Just mine, I think.” Joe says cheerily, starting to unbutton the buttons quickly.

As Joe hands his jacket to the maître d’hôtel, Taylor glances around the restaurant foyer. Despite the traffic, she’s only a fashionable ten minutes late - there’s a succinct laugh coming from one of the conference rooms and she immediately recognises Stella’s laugh. Joe’s hand finds hers and she automatically smiles, walking next to him as they follow the maître to the venue in question.

“Quite the guest list,” the maître remarks, “it’s a good thing we’ve managed to keep the press at bay because they would be having a field day - _if_ they were to catch up with this party later on tonight, Ms Swift, there’s always the option of leaving through the kitchen side door, if you wish.”

“Thank you,” Taylor says politely, “oh, it’s with name cards?”

The room, not too big but definitely not small, features several round tables decked out with fancy cutlery, several glasses and, as she immediately spots, name cards. Another man hands the maître a clipboard and Taylor watches the man skim the list.

“Ah, here you are,” he smiles at her, “Table 13.”

_Of course._

“You are seated with Ms Gwyneth Paltrow, Mr Brad Falchuk,” he continues, “and Ms Karlie Kloss and Mr Joshua Kushner. Quite the table!”

_Fuck._

“Hey,” She hears Joe’s voice from beside her, “Taylor. Taylor, stop.”

His free hand is suddenly on her wrist and it’s only then she realises she’s been gripping his hand so tightly her knuckles have turned white.

“If um, if you’ll follow me, please.”

“Taylor,” Joe says gently, “we don’t have to. If you don’t want to, I can make up an excuse and we can go home.”

She considers it. What she had thought would be a night she did not really want to bother with had now vastly turned into her worst nightmare. From the far end of the room, Stella has spotted her and walks over, happily waving at them both.

“Taylor!” She greets her enthusiastically, “Welcome darling - and hi, it’s _lovely_ meeting you, Joe.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Come, come.” Stella wraps an arm around her waist gently, “I _have_ to introduce you to some people later on, there are people here who are dying to meet you. I didn’t want to just throw you in the deep end so I thought it would be nice to let you acclimatise in the company of friends, I put you at the same table as your friend Karlie,” she continues happily, “what a darling, too. Did you like that I put you at table 13? I thought it was hysterical, myself.”

Taylor thinks 13 might not be her lucky number after all.

“Karlie, darling, look who’s got here!”

Taylor cannot read Karlie’s face at all when the blonde model turns to face her. If anything, the blank stare she gets for just a second before Karlie snaps back into friendly professional mood is upsetting.

“Hi Taylor, what a lovely surprise.” Karlie says gently, and Taylor knows she’s lying the second she says it, because Karlie was always the first to go through the table’s name cards at any event, “Hello,” she turns to Joe, “I don’t think we’ve ever actually sat down together, have we.”

“Nice to meet you,” Joe takes the hand Karlie offers and shakes it, “I’m Joe.”

“Nice meeting you,” Karlie says politely, “this is my husband, Josh.”

Taylor watches Joe and Josh shake hands and for a second feels sick at the idea of having to engage in any kind of pleasantries with the younger Kushner brother, but Stella’s turning out to be blissfully ignorant to the entire masters’ catalogue situation and gestures for Taylor to say hi to Gwyneth and Brad. When Joe takes his seat next to her, he leans in closer, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair.

“You don’t have to talk to either of them,” he says softly, “if there’s anything you need me to do, let me know.”

“Don’t let him near me.” Taylor mumbles back, “I don’t want to cause a scene.”

* * *

“And _of course,_ I would all of you to pay close attention to one of my dear friends next month,” Stella pauses for a second, pointing almost directly at her from the small podium at the front of the room, “Taylor and I collaborated on a new fashion line and merchandise for her _delightful_ new album, so I hope you’ll all join me in a toast - to Taylor!”

She almost automatically stands up and raises a glass to Stella as the room applauds her. When she goes to sit down again and Joe helpfully shifts her chair for her, she can once again feel Karlie’s gaze on her. Joe clears his throat as soon as she sits down, and she turns to him, looking into mischievous blue eyes.

“Well done darling, so proud of you,” he says, louder than he usually would, and before she knows it, he’s leaned in closer, pressing his lips against her, “so proud.”

She kisses him back for a moment before pulling away and glancing across the table. Josh is engaged in conversation with Gwyneth, but Karlie is looking right at them, fingers clasped tightly around the glass of champagne she toasted Taylor with seconds earlier. Taylor is the first to avert her eyes, looking back at Joe who looks awfully pleased with himself. As he leans back and takes his glass from the table, he glances at Karlie as well, not breaking eye contact as he sips from his drink.

“If you’ll excuse me for a second,” Taylor mumbles, standing up.

“Of course,” Joe follows her lead, standing up and unbuttoning his jacket as he does, “you need anything, darling?”

“I’m good, babe, thank you.”

When Taylor puts her napkin down on her chair, she can’t help but notice Joshua observing just how _nice_ Joe is being. Karlie is blatantly staring, briefly glancing at Josh.

“I’ll get you another drink by the time you get back.” Joe smiles, “Do you want another, Gwyneth?” He turns to the model, “You, Karlie?”

Taylor doesn’t wait for Karlie’s reaction. She walks out of the room as fast as her dress allows her, following the sign to the ladies’ bathroom through one of the hallways in the back. She sighs in relief when she notices the entire bathroom is empty and quickly ducks into one of the stalls. _Unbelievable._ How the hell is she going to make it through an entire evening having to look at Karlie, and _talk_ to Karlie, especially when Josh is right there next to her. Her nightmare scenario keeps unfolding. She curses herself for not having brought her clutch and her goddamn phone into the bathroom because texting Joe right now and asking to make a quick getaway would have been helpful.

“You can do this,” she gently bangs her hand against the stall door, “you can do this.” She mumbles to herself before unlocking the door again.

The second she steps out of the stall, she knows she’s made a mistake. Right there, leaning against the sink closest to the wall, stands Karlie Kloss with her arms crossed, an emerald green dress clinging to her body as if it was _made_ for her. _It probably was._ Taylor thinks bitterly as she blanks Karlie and walks over to another sink, turning on the tap and vigorously washing her hands pro forma.

“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” Karlie’s voice sounds loud in the empty bathroom, “Taylor?”

“Are you going to keep following me?” Taylor retorts, not bothering to look up, “Why are you even here?”

“Stella invited me,” she can almost hear the frown in Karlie’s voice, “just like she invited you? We move in small circles, Taylor.”

“I mean _here_, Karlie.” Taylor sighs, looking at the model in the mirror, “The stalls are empty, take your pick.”

“I’m in here because I want to apologise,” Karlie sighs, realising Taylor is now just standing there with wet hands, “here,” she adds, pulling some paper towels out of the dispenser and handing them to the singer, “I made a mistake. I know I made a mistake. I should have never agreed to let Scooter manage me, and I should have never told him anything about you.”

“Well,” Taylor says coolly, drying off her hands, “you _did_ let him manage you, you _did_ tell him about me and now I, Karlie,” she says, throwing the paper towels into the bin with more force than intended, “I can’t get over that.”

“So, this is it then?” Karlie moves in closer, now just two metres away from her, “You are never going to forgive me for this no matter what I do?” She waits for Taylor to speak but the singer remains silent, “Taylor, I need you to tell me, to my _face_, that you are never going to forgive me for this because I need to know whether I should stop trying to make up with you or not. This is just,” she pauses, “exhausting. Tell me.”

Taylor hates that, when it matters, she’s the one who can’t speak at all and Karlie is pretty much an avalanche of words. It reminds her of _the_ talk they had, the one she’s been replaying in her head for months and simultaneously tries to repress all the time. Karlie’s stare is making her nervous, so nervous that she automatically flicks one of her fingers against her thumb, feeling one of the small hangnails she can’t seem to get rid off. Before she knows it, she’s brought her hand up to her face and glances down at her thumb, quickly clasping the loose bit of skin between her teeth and pulling.

“Hey,” Karlie says, softer this time, “it’s fine, you don’t have to say anything.”

She doesn’t register when Karlie steps into her personal space, but the model almost immediately reaches for her hand and brings it down between the two of them again, her thumb gently moving back and forth over the inside of Taylor’s wrist. It’s something Karlie used to do all the time when Taylor felt nervous and the thought of the small gesture during movie nights, and car rides, and big conversations in small audio booths at the studio, almost makes her want to jerk her hand out of Karlie’s.

“Just give me a chance and I’ll make it up to you,” Karlie’s voice is barely a whisper, “just one chance, Taylor.”

Taylor doesn’t know whether it’s the continuous thumb strokes or the quiver in Karlie’s voice when she says it, but she finds herself nodding slightly.

“Yeah?” Karlie whispers, and the thumb strokes stop, “You do?”

“One,” Taylor’s voice croaks, “just one more, Karlie. And then I’m done. I can’t - we can’t keep doing this.”

“Okay,” Karlie sighs in relief, “I don’t need it to be easy, I just need it to be possible.”

Taylor looks up into earnest eyes and wants to say something in return, _warn_ Karlie that she is serious this time, that there’s no going back, that there’s nothing else to be said if this goes down the wrong way. Karlie, however, seems to want to stop talking and do something else instead as one of the model’s hands are suddenly cupping Taylor’s cheek.

“Don’t -” Taylor pulls back slightly, “you can’t just -”

Right when Karlie opens her mouth to say something, the bathroom door opens and Taylor immediately jumps backwards, bumping right into the sink and almost tripping over her heels. Karlie grabs her arm trying to keep her upright, but Taylor is quick to yank herself loose, immediately turning away from Karlie and pretending to fix her hair. The other female guest politely smiles before disappearing into one of the stalls and Taylor’s eyes shoot daggers at Karlie who mouths a quick _sorry_.

“I’m gonna go.” Taylor mumbles, “We’ll talk.”

“I’ll come with.”

“_No,_” Taylor emphasises, “I don’t need people talking more than they already are.” She adds, keeping her voice low enough so the woman can’t hear them, “We’ll talk.”

“Okay, sure, yeah.” Karlie nods, “Um, can I eh -”

“I said I’m giving you one last chance,” Taylor purses her lips, “this doesn’t mean I’m over this entire Scooter thing because I’m _not_. I’m not okay with it and I don’t think I ever will be.”

“Fair.”

“And _this _is a catastrophe, I don’t even know where to look when I’m sat at that table with Josh.”

“I don’t know,” Karlie says, “look at me then.”

“_Bye_, Karlie.” Taylor says decisively, “We’ll talk.” She says a third time.

She leaves the bathroom as fast as she’d left the main room earlier on and by the time she makes it back to the table, she’s shocked to see Joe and Josh engaging in small talk about _stocks_ before the Brit stops talking and turns to her.

“Hi love,” he greets her, standing up once again, “you alright?”

“I’m fine but I think it's time to go,” she responds softly, making sure Josh cannot hear, “soon.”

“No worries,” Joe looks next to Taylor and grins, “I’ll ring John.”

Taylor turns to see what Joe was looking at and quickly looks back at him when she notices Karlie is approaching the table.

“It was lovely meeting you,” Joe addresses Gwyneth, “and you,” he shakes Brad’s hand before turning to Josh and Karlie, “and of course you two,” he smiles, looking between the two of them, “thank you for a very interesting night, I learnt a lot.”

They walk away and Taylor thinks Joe wasn’t talking about _stocks_ at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love, you guys.  
Stay safe, stay sane - get that vaccine when you're offered one. And #StopAsianHate.  
That's all.


End file.
